I killed my husband Victor for the insurance money.
Yes, it sounds wretched. But it was all his idea.
“It’s the only way to fund our trip around the world.”
On our last evening in Namibia, I pushed Victor off the overlook as he beheld the grand finale of colors.
Giulietta Nardone enjoys writing, painting and singing in Massachusetts where she lives in a drafty old house with her husband and two curious cats.
Her husband appears in the kitchen doorway, clutching his lover’s sweatshirt. Sorry. For him, the word comes from grit, polished by hardship. Sorry. For days, she’d waited to hear it, drinking whisky, adrift–and now? Suddenly on shore, she hurls the word out to sea, watching as it floats away.
Jennifer Mills Kerr runs A World in a Line, an organization that connect poets from around the world through virtual workshops. Her poetry is forthcoming in One Art and the Eunoia Review. Connect with Jennifer at JenniferMillsKerr.com.
The black ballpoint pen almost slips out of my hands. They’re slick with sweat. It’s an ordinary check-up; the paperwork is simple, but my breath catches in my chest. The blank emergency contact line stares back up at me. Your phone number was the only one I knew by heart.
Addison Hammond is a college student who always keeps a journal on her bedside table.
My instincts were right. I should have never hired that backstabbing nanny. She tried on my clothes, wore my perfume, stole my jewelry, poisoned the dog, turned my kids against me, seduced my husband, shot me in the head, buried me in the basement, and now it’s a Lifetime movie.
Helen Ksypka lives in Eliot, Maine. She is the author of “A Chef for the Queen,” and her humor has been published by Meadowrook Press, Reader’s Digest, The Saturday Evening Post, Light Poetry Magazine, and elsewhere.
When I saw her the following day she looked older. Not just older because she was tired, or hungover, which would have made sense. No, she had wrinkles, her hair was greying, she stooped slightly, and it made me think that what she had said last night might be true.
Jonathan Willmer is a primary school supply teacher in Sheffield, England. His stories have been published in Popshot Magazine, Bandit Fiction, The Templeman Review, and Bag of Bones, among others.
January 9, time to figure out a unique birthday gift for granddaughter Julie, something fun and unexpected.
Carefully Grandma studied Julie’s text messages. Then, wearing her prized Beatles tee, Grandma starred in a video, belting out:
s-r-s-l-y
h-b-d, Julie
r-o-f-l
t-t-y-l, Gran
Roberta Beach Jacobson is drawn to the magic of words–poetry, song lyrics, flash fiction, puzzles, and stand-up comedy. Her latest book is Demitasse Fiction: One-Minute Reads for Busy People (Alien Buddha Press, 2023).
Editor: For those counting along at home, we’re counting this one using the words “inside” the initialisms. Have fun working it out! It may not be the most traditional way of hitting 50 words, but it’s our format; we get to make the rules the way we want to! ;)
You texted: “I’m finished doing those pagan holidays—no gifts or cards, please. The kids are all on board.”
You memory-holed me; everyone forgot.
Then, I heard about your parties.
Did you fear my disability was contagious?
I’m weary of pointless waiting. I release you from all obligations.
Adieu,
Mama
Cate Covert hails from sunny Idaho, U.S.A. She has been telling stories since she could talk. She is a gardener and amateur herbalist, plays guitar and piano, and loves baking bread and making beaded jewelry. Most of all, Cate Covert loves to engage her reading and listening audiences. You can read her frequent inspirational writings, poetry, flash fiction, and humorous stories at Cate Covert on Chadashah.org or her Inspirational essays and bible studies at Pastora Cate’s Corner on Substack.
After Momma died, the ring promised me disappeared.
When my sister died, I found it in a box with a note. “Momma thought I’d lose it. Pawn it. I had to prove I could care for it, like you would.”
I sighed, warmed she’d succeeded. Momma’s ring was hers. Forever.
Liz Mayers writes short fiction from Long Island’s North Shore. Find her at lizmayers.com
Across the centuries, they lined up before Mother Time, each hoping to shine brightest—researchers, scientists, artists, bishops, professors, writers of deep sensibility. Humbly they waited, but soon saw their lights dimmed beside the child who, without thought of fame, gave his favorite marble to a classmate who felt shunned.
Elizabeth Elder is a freelance writer and publisher, a retired community newspaper editor, and resident of Putnam Lake, NY.
Good news, son. Your mom has returned from the dead in the form of my hygienist.
She’s slightly shorter than you’ll remember, with darker hair and a softer, rather melodious voice,
but there’s absolutely no doubt once you get a good long look into those bright lovely blue mothering eyes.
Bob Thurber is the author of six books. Regarded as a master of Flash and Micro Fiction, his work has appeared in Esquire and other magazines, been anthologized 60 times, received a long list of awards, and been utilized in schools and colleges throughout the world. He resides in Massachusetts. Visit his website at BobThurber.net.