First the whispers
Then the shadows
His skin bites
Alert
He stands braced
Screams flash back
Demons taunt
Alive again…
He must…
He fails…
She wakes him
He leaves the sweat-soaked sheets
Hours later
She makes oatmeal
He almost smiles
A goodbye kiss
She revisits her spell book
And laughs
Patrick Yu says: It didn’t work out in the end.
At dusk she roams the neighborhood, peering into windows glowing with evening activity. Careful to avoid the families during daylight, she tries to catch glimpses of the people and feel the warmth of their homes. She sees only cartoons, the news, and football games on their large, colorful flat-screen TVs.
Carol Anne Harvey enjoys the challenge of writing a story in 50 words, but also likes telling an audience the longer version.
One afternoon together, after 412 days apart. If only we could stretch these hours to days, weeks even, maybe then we’d relax enough to find the right words to talk about my war at home, his war away.
Instead we part, saying a stilted goodbye, before he boards the train.
Laura Besley writes short fiction in the precious moments that her children are asleep. Her debut flash fiction collection, The Almost Mothers, will be published in 2020 by Dahlia Books. She tweets at @laurabesley.
She’d sit looking at the perennials starting to bud. Spring was in the air, with the promise of warmer days ahead.
She loved new life springing forth from her planting efforts.
Today the backfilling was done quietly, without hope of life being renewed, as we said goodbye at her graveside.
Connell writes a bit.
At the hospital, I find mum. She looks concerned, like I’m not dressed warm enough. I hold her hand, thank her for all she was and kiss her cold frown. On the wall there’s a whiteboard with her name scrawled on it and a section titled Patient’s Needs. It’s blank.
Giles Montgomery writes ads for a living and fiction for joy. Find him on Twitter at @gilesmon.
Shoes have started to follow me around the Internet. What do they know about me already? I don’t want to touch them because I know what will happen if I do. It will only encourage them. There will be more of them. Legions of them, marching marching into my eyes.
Richard Neville is trying to write something every day. Today it was this. Only this.
Disdainful of the traffic, Bob, my golden retriever, bounded across the road towards me. This is very strange, I thought. Bob was killed by a truck two years ago.
As he cavorted and joyfully yelped beside me, I noticed that people had clustered around someone stretched out on the pavement.
John Young is an old chap, 73, a retired Criminal Justice social work manager in Scotland (CJS roughly equivalent to English / US Probation Service) and then University Hon Lecturer lecturing in Social Work ethics. He grapples with themes of limits, longings, and the images that these create.
She watched him as he slept, how the moonlight spilled across his
body, sliced by venetian blind shadows. She eased her hand into his
half-clenched fist.
He didn’t stir.
She pried open his hand. Pulled the ring over the hump of dry knuckle.
It slid off easily.
He didn’t stir.
Tim Boiteau lives near Detroit with wife and son. He’s a recent
Writers of the Future Contest winner.
The implants changed everything. She had to adjust her posture & the way she walked. Even entering a room wasn’t the same. But she had no regrets. They could look into her doe eyes all they liked, but the majesty of the antlers guaranteed they’d acknowledge her as a stag.
Jonathan Roman is a poet & storyteller. He has a book of poems titled Deeper Into Winter. You can find more of his work on Twitter at deft_notes.
I’ll calm you, I’ll keep you busy. I’ll scratch that itch. I’ll give you a reason to go outside for some fresh air. Sometimes, I’ll give you a rush. Most of the time though, I will just give you a measure of comfort.
Then, I will kill you.
Love,
Cigarettes
Sharon Gerger has been published in the Globe and Mail and Erma Bombeck Workshop and has a story in Laugh Out Loud, an award-winning book that is for sale on Amazon.