I sat on the rickety court bench, filling out the restraining order application, vowing I would someday leave my apartment, walk down the street, and go to the supermarket without fear, no longer trusting in those who proffer, “Hey, why don’t you try online dating? It worked for my cousin!”
Debbie L. Miller is a writer and winner of the 2017 Mona Schreiber Prize for Humorous Fiction and Nonfiction. She dates in beautiful Brooklyn, New York.
Barry didn’t need to make the announcement about turbulence
or flick the seatbelt light on early
or shake the column hard enough to make the wings flex
or force the wheels to thump on touchdown,
but he’d worked hard for his qualifications
and felt he deserved a round of applause.
Mark Farley writes novels, flash fiction and the occasional poem. See more at mumbletoes.blogspot.com
They said he couldn’t do it. They said it was impossible for him to become a confectioner. He’d failed culinary school over and over again.
But here he was, baking a cake for the Chief Examiner. He let out a happy sigh as he slipped the poison into the pastry.
Balázs Papp is a 16 years old student in Hungary, he plays soccer, (or football if you will), enjoys dancing, and in his free time, he occasionally writes short stories or poems. He apologizes for any grammatical mistake made on his behalf.
The old lady nudged the bearded man beside her, and asked, “Do you remember my brother?”
“What?” He replied.
“My brother. Do you remember my brother?”
The old man sighed. “I am your brother! I’ve told you a million times.”
The old woman appeared doubtful. “My brother wasn’t that ugly.”
Eddie & Anna are a father-daughter team that enjoys dreaming up stories and hashing out dialogue. Sometimes they even write them down. Anna’s new to writing, but you can visit her father’s website
Who are these senior citizens who surround me?
I see retirees decked out in bifocals and new teeth, but I remember energetic cheerleaders, state football champs, school newspaper reporters.
As we pass phones to share photos of our kids, grandchildren, and pets, we promise to meet again in 10 years.
Roberta tried retiring, but it didn’t work. See more at RobertaJacobson.com
In college I had a roommate who kept “borrowing” my clothes.
I made a salt perimeter around my closet door as a passive-aggressive joke, but when it worked too well I tested it out on the refrigerator.
I reimbursed her for the week of take-out and we called it even.
Sarah Krenicki is 90% sure all her non-feline roommates have been human.
“This won’t hurt a bit,” I whispered to the assassin operative from behind as I administered the lethal injection. His body crumpled to the floor. I felt badly but I had my orders.
Our team’s cleaner arrived. He unexpectedly grabbed me, needling me in the neck.
“This won’t hurt a…”
Connie Taylor is not an assassin. By day she is an Operations Manager; by night a writer and reader. This is her third fifty-word story.
Of course, if someone successfully built a time machine and changed the past, the rest of the world wouldn’t have a clue. From our perspective, the future would unfurl exactly as it was supposed to.
I mulled this concept over idly as I drove my Triceratops to work.
Thomas Tilton enjoys restoring old woolly mammoths.
His wife sneered at him, her eyes heavy with disappointment.
“While you’ve been in jail, I’ve turned my life around. I won second prize in a beauty contest and I’ve started to invest in property. I can’t wait around for a loser like you,” she spat.
Kevin sighed. “Monopoly sucks!”
Jo Withers is a shrewd, short-sighted Sagittarius. Her debut children’s novel will be published in April 2018.
I saw her in French class and knew I had to have her heart.
I pictured it: big, lovely, and full of life, the perfect one for me.
I wined and dined her and when the time came, she offered it. I accepted.
I had her heart. It was delicious.
Chelsea Roberts is a writer from Trinidad and Tobago. When she isn’t laying on a sandy beach, she can be found writing essays and micro fiction at pastpaperanswers.com