Modest Maude was a very proper woman.
No one had ever seen so much as Maude’s ankles or wrists, not even her doctor.
She had married a blind man, and still made him keep his eyes closed while she was getting undressed.
But her laughter made the stars come out.
The day before yesterday, I was flying high. I had the tiger by the tail.
Yesterday, I crash landed. The tiger turned on me.
Today, I’ve got my feet on the ground. I’m looking the tiger in the eye. The world is my oyster: I’m putting on my water wings.
This story is based on a title suggested by @RubyCosmos.
“If I told you I was going to save the world, would you believe me?” I asked her.
“No, I wouldn’t. Don’t be so silly,” she replied.
I stepped to the door and opened it.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
I turned and smiled. “I’m going to save the world.”
Salmir is a university student, studying Computer Games Design. He also does some video reviews and webcomics.
I know this guy who saves puppies. He hears the world’s gonna end. He doesn’t believe it, he’s not religious, but he wants it to be true. When it doesn’t happen, he’s depressed.
So was I. I was depressed because the guy who saves puppies wants the world to end.
Walter Campbell lives and works in Philadelphia, went to school in New England, and grew up in LA, but he’ll write pretty much anywhere. Recently, his work has been published in Jersey Devil, Six Sentences, Dogzplot, MicroHorror, Toasted Cheese, and Glossolalia.
He didn’t know it worked: one night he’d simply pointed at the sky, and a star had appeared, bright and new.
It was a great party trick, of course, and it stimulated his inner artist, but he didn’t fully harness the potential of his god-like ability until he went commercial.
Father Simon found a note in the charity box that read, “Sorry, I took some money.”
He suspected parishioners took money, but they never left a note.
Weeks later, Father Simon noticed a note in the charity box wrapped around a five dollar bill. “Thanks. The lemonade business picked up.”
Martin Jaeger has been published or is soon to be published in several print and online magazines. He tries to create imaginative pieces that will intrigue the reader, who will then have a greater appreciation for writers.
Jim sniffed. “Smell the sweetness?”
“Yes. Lovely,” Sam said. “I like the ones that have just fallen.” He studied the plump morsel, the nectar inside straining against its skin. “A real peach.”
Jim took a bite and licked his muzzle. “It’s werewolf heaven, all these humans dying from sun stroke.”
Barb Ettridge is totally bemused by life, but enjoying all the randomness.
The helium balloons lost their lift in my car trunk overnight.
I presented them as a bouquet to my granddaughter on her fifth birthday, holding the bundle at the knots.
When I let go
…
they all fell,
…
as did her face.
Cutting off ribbons got two airborne.
She smiled again.
Rammy “Saba” (“grandfather”) Meyerowitz is a Puzzle Person, a foodie, and a prize-winning microfiction author.
There was a complete stranger in the house, and no one else seemed to care. Jill and Bobby even seemed to like the trespassing feline.
So Mitsy began sneezing and sniffling and mewling.
She knew how things worked: they’d never keep the new cat if it was creating allergy problems.
I learned a lot during my time at university. Like how to tie a perfect blindfold knot, how to throw a knife accurately, how to keep my bearings when I’m dizzy…
It was an eclectic skillset, and certainly not employable, but I won my wife’s heart at the county fair.