Amy checked her seatbelt. Seats were filling… yet, more passengers still boarded.
“Hope I don’t get kicked off,” she muttered.
“I won’t do that.”
Amy turned her head. A lanky guy in a black, hooded robe towered over her.
“I’ve been running my transportation business for ages. I never overbook.”
He finished speaking, and Eve just stood there for a moment blinking at him. Then her lips curved into a wide smile and her shoulders began to shake. And the laughter came leaking out, first in spurts, then in fits, as she turned and staggered away, mirthfully munching an apple.
A Pushcart Prize nominee, Jennifer Hambrick was a winner in the 2017 international Golden Triangle Haiku Contest (Washington, D.C.) and received the Merit Award in the 2017 Montenegrin International Haiku Competition (English). Her debut chapbook of free verse poems, Unscathed (NightBallet Press), was nominated for the Ohioana Book Award, she won the Ohio Poetry Association’s 2013 Ides of March contest, and she has received many other recognitions for her work, which has been published in Santa Clara Review, Third Wednesday, Mad River Review, Pudding Magazine, River River, Muddy River Poetry Review, 50-Word Stories, the major Japanese newspapers The Asahi Shimbun (The Morning Sun) and The Mainichi (The Daily News), Modern Haiku, Frogpond, World Haiku Review, The Heron’s Nest, Acorn, Cattails, Presence, Bones, Haiku Canada Review, Moongarlic, bottle rockets, Shamrock, Wild Plum, Ershik, Ribbons, Eucalypt, Contemporary Haibun Online, Haibun Today, and in dozens of other journals worldwide, in English and in translation. Jennifer Hambrick is founder and editor of the International Women’s Haiku Festival. A classical musician and public radio broadcaster and web producer, Jennifer lives in Columbus, Ohio, USA. Her blog, Inner Voices, is at jenniferhambrick.com.
I started turning into a tree three days ago. Then stopped. It’s unseemly having only two branches and barely any leaves. But so many knots.
Mum shook her head and tutted. Dad patted me on the trunk, then checked his palm for splinters. Ever-practical Joanna showed the saw’s sharp teeth.
Only fifty words?
Yes, fifty.
That doesn’t seem like very much.
It isn’t, but that’s all we have.
Alright, let me think.
You have twenty-three words left.
You mean we already started?
I’m afraid so.
Well, why didn’t you tell me?
Sorry.
Darn it! Okay, here goes: my story begins-
Monday motivational meeting. Eleven frowning people surround the board room table.
Door opens; eleven heads bow, eyes staring at the floor.
Heels click across the hardwood.
New voice. “I’m Nancy from Human Resources. There’s no meeting today. Sylvie is no longer with the company.”
Nancy leaves. Eleven smiling people follow.
Ummm, my favorite part of the day is when I colored on the table.
I touch things with my yucky hands.
I spill milk on my sister’s bed.
Listen to your Mom and Dad and listen to policemans or else they’re gonna put you in jail and don’t get cavities.
Amplitudes of emotion
coursed his veins, his young flesh
wed to eyes in constant motion.
On her perch he envisioned heavenly
auras enhanced by multitudes of color
from his imagination.
With a tongue numbed by inaction,
he sensed little to risk and quipped,
“Don’t I know you from church camp?”
“The boogeyman isn’t real,” was the last thing my dad said before I shoved him into the closet and slammed the door. I plugged my ears and sang “la la la” until he stopped screaming. Of course, I felt bad later, but nobody talks about my best friend like that.
I couldn’t have anticipated such a boisterous reception, just for winning a preliminary heat at a swimming gala.
The crowd went wild the moment I left the pool! People fist-pumping! Woop-woops echoing everywhere!
Overcome, I took a bow.
Then I realised.
Those were my red trunks bobbing on the water.
Death’s hand, which I shook reluctantly, was a plumped pillow.
“You’re safe,” he said. “For now.”
“I pictured you as a, you know—”
“Skeleton? You should’ve seen me before the Western diet.” Laughter rippled his corpulence. “Doctor’s telling me to eat better, but she thinks I’m lying about my work.”