The sea sings of shores distant, of treasures old and lands new. I wonder where you are, when you’ll return. You, who heard not my pleading o’er the ocean’s siren song.
May God preserve you from storms and selkies, pirates and perils, and may He return you safe to me.
Lynn Messing is a landlubber who loves every second of her near-annual visits to the shore and who wishes she could spend more time there.
Fingers claw railings; new songs quiver first but soon catch on fire; an angry yell fractures into many, rolling through schoolrooms, churches, workshops; civility gone; smoke curls; sweat runs; papers tear; hands once serving the upper echelon now grip polearms; the tide surges, feral, unbroken; the downtrodden done being down.
J.S. O’Keefe’s work spans short stories, essays, and poems. They have been featured in a variety of publications, including AntipodeanSF, ScribeMicro, Roi Faineant, 101 Words, Spillwords, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, 50 Word Stories, etc.
Humans are incredibly peculiar. They stare at thin blocks that light up and make noise. Heads down, thumbs twiddling, ignoring the world. I think it is their god. To fit in, I too keep glued to the box. It worked. Not once have they realised I’m not of their kind.
Zoe is a passionate cinephile and bibliophile. She spends most of her time writing, reading, or thinking about films.
I hate people who complain but last year my wife divorced me, her father fired me, my kids disowned me, our dog bit me and my best friend stabbed me in the back. At least his wife remained my lover. Good to know who you can trust during tough times.
Don Nigroni is a retired labor economist.
The story of the week for January 26 to 30 is…
The Astronaut by Sarp Sozdinler
Early in life I found a climbing tree.
I was entranced. I was enhanced.
I climbed from branch to branch.
I always brought a book with me.
I spent hours in that tree
Living in my fantasy
Until my mother called to me,
Forcing me to reality
And my responsibility.
Between one adventure and another,
Morocco, Tahiti, and Brazil
Zip-lining on St. Maartins.
The quiet is a space to fill.
And memories
Will fill the bill.
Eighty-two years old
And past her prime,
She writes poetry
To fill the time.
You said I was soft.
A marshmallow. A cowardly custard. A yellow-bellied jelly baby. Such sweet descriptions for something so distasteful.
You called me sugar and I hoped it was because you thought I’d rot your teeth.
Better face the fact that I’m full fat. Putting the die into diet.
teven Holding lives in the United Kingdom. His story TURNING A TRICK appears in the collection BLOODLUST from Black Hare Press. You can follow his work at stevenholding.co.uk.
Magic had weight that could break a grieving mind, effectively ending any wizard’s career.
Professor Henley drew an incantation in the air. Finger-like tendrils seeped out of the pentagram and lurched into his skull, hungry for memory.
He thought of his wedding. His children being born.
The spell groaned, sated.
Desiree S. Brown is a poet and author from California. She writes when the world sleeps and her toddler’s are pacified. Her recent work, Untroubled, was published in Redrosethorns magazine. Find her on Substack at Desi’s Narrative.
A crow snatches the dead body of a fat rat in a nondescript alleyway. The rat is too big, but the bird is determined. On wobbly wings, the crow carries its passenger into the air towards a hazy sun that the dead rat cannot reach with its pink toes alone.
Sophia Baran is a writer with a fondness for trail running with her dog and squawking at birds along the way.
Count fingers and toes. Kiss palm. Change diaper. Breast feed. Pat back to burp. Pat back to sleep. Swaddle in crib. Try to sleep? Clean. Wash Dishes. Eat food? Pump breast. Post partum exercises. Count fingers and foes. Miss talking to people. Choke on the silence. Scream when she does.
Susanna Blagrove is a Jamaican writer and poet. Beside her love affair with books and the beach, you can always find her crooning at karaoke.