Some form of dementia has stolen her brilliant mind
But has kindly left her beautiful soul.
From a hospital bed finally she knows no limits.
All worries, self-doubts have vanished,
Layers of life’s woes stripped away.
Her eyes filled with love, she sings and is happy.
Her truest self, revealed?
Lisa Lysen is having fun exploring her passion for words, hoping an adventure in writing may be somewhere in her future.
Mahmoud took a seat near the back of the bus.
“Muslim scum!”
He turned, seeking the source of the insult: a shaven-headed youth.
Mahmoud smiled. “Hello there, Jonathan! How’s the appendix scar healing?”
The lad, suddenly scarlet, looked aghast.
Mahmoud’s hospital pager vibrated. No rest for the wicked, he thought.
Jason Lennick is a word and image wrangler from England, currently residing in Denmark. He’s 100% organic and now completely gluten-free. Please check out his blog.
The story of the week for October 19 to 23 is…
A Fleeting Childhood by Jason Huynh
Jason crafted a potent mix of nostalgia and sympathy, setting a scene I could easily envision with some great descriptive language.
I took the chopped vegetables from the cutting board. Heating olive oil, I fried them with a pinch of salt and oregano, then added just the right amount of peri-peri sauce.
At dinner, hubby commented, “Amazing meat dish.”
I got rather puzzled.
Suddenly kiddo exclaimed, “Mommy’s missing left hand fingers!”
Paramita Ghosh is an ordinary lady who loves to read and collect knowledge in her spare time. She also loves sketching and painting.
She used to wish on snowflakes for a man like him.
Glancing over, she thought, I wouldn’t mind Christmas mornings with you.
Giving her heart to him like a gift-wrapped present, she watched him open it.
Then realized that it was Halloween and he had been wearing a mask.
Lauren Layfield is a senior Multi-Platform Journalism major at Sam Houston State University. She is the former Assistant Campus Culture editor at The Houstonian, SHSU’s independent student newspaper.
I never claimed to be a virtuous woman. You never claimed to be a rodeo man. Blinded by first impressions, holding hands with false visions, we ran off triumphant from the masquerade ball.
I never learned patience. You never lassoed my demons. But with naked acceptance we learned to dance.
Lee DeAmali resides in the Los Angeles area with a very patient man who one night a long time ago dressed as a cowboy.
The Labrador was the first of the dogs to wear the device, its barks converting to human speech. Just a single repeating word, really. Mel could hear it clearly from his desk.
The other dogs bared their teeth, and panic rose in Mel’s chest. It was only one word: “Attack!”
Daniel Pereyra is a Phoenix, AZ-based writer of fiction and poetry. He’s had fiction featured in the online magazine The Artist Catalogue and his poetry has appeared both online and in print. His poetry chapbook, Sunday Morning Ponderings, was published in August 2015 by Flutter Press.
“Are you there?” Alone on the hillside, she yelled into the orange-edged night. “They told me you were out there. Then they said you couldn’t be. And I…”
Stars peppered the deepening night, sparking memories: her father, kneeling to play marbles as a storm raged outside.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Julie Duffy is the host of StoryADay May, the annual extreme writing challenge for short story writers.
Mandy watched the fire take the building and her company’s financial records.
My secrets die here.
“…Or there’s hell to pay?”
She turned round to see her accountant, red faced and furious.
“You cannot break our deal. Follow me. Now.”
She followed, stepping in each of his cloven hoof prints.
Allyson Salmon is married with one grown-up daughter. She has previously had one 50-word story published on FiftyWordStories.com. She has also had three poems printed by United Press and one in The People’s Friend magazine.
Open eyes, fully alert, compliance shown.
Beer on my breath. Vicodin in my system.
Pulled over for purple turn signals. I correct in front of the officer.
The officer unaware. Passenger’s run impeded. Ticket given.
Blue awaits our departure.
Out of sight, I retrieve opened beer from door to calm.
Scott Trainer earned his BS at Ohio University in Adventure Recreation and his MFA at Ashland University in Creative Writing. He has been published in Ash and Bones Literary Magazine and writes articles somewhat consistently for watchfit.com. He also works with teenagers, taking them on adventure-oriented trips, and fights to instill efficacy in those left behind in society.