The story of the week for December 18 to 22 is…
Breakout by Deborah Tapper
The story of the week for December 18 to 22 is…
Breakout by Deborah Tapper
Scarves, mittens, candy canes,
Choirs singing sweet refrains;
Cocoa, cookies, mistletoe,
Laughter by the fire’s glow.
Random kindness, generous cheer
Infuse the hearts of all held dear;
Loved ones present, others missed,
Presents checked off Santa’s list.
May childlike wonder never leave our sight,
To all a peaceful blessed night.
Lisa Chambers is a Texas girl carrying forward the great love her Dad held for Christmas.
Sending out holiday cards gets easier each year. More names are crossed out as friends and family appear in obituaries.
I write short notes to those who are on the list no more to thank for the beautiful memories that bind us.
The notes grace the wall and my heart.
K.G. Song enjoys crafting short stories and micro-fiction in his retirement.
I walked into the plant store looking for seeds.
“They’re on sale,” the clerk told me, handing me an envelope. “Nobody wants them.”
I looked at the picture of an unfamiliar plant, with the caption, “Please, take care of me.”
Now I proudly own a lot of lush, unfamiliar bushes.
Marcelo Medone (1961, Buenos Aires, Argentina) is a Pushcart Prize nominee fiction writer, poet, essayist, playwright, and screenwriter. He received numerous awards and was published in multiple languages in more than 50 countries, including Canada. He currently lives in Montevideo, Uruguay. See more on Facebook and Instagram.
To Marie, Christmas meant the sweet smell of pine, smiling parents, and presents tied with a bow.
This year, she toured a fragrant tree farm. She wrapped herself a small gift. Then she collapsed in front of their snow-capped stone, accepting she’d only celebrate two-thirds of Christmas from now on.
Ian Li writes speculative fiction and poetry from Toronto. Formerly an economist and consultant, he also loves spreadsheets, statistical curiosities, and brain teasers. Find his writing at Radon Journal, Flame Tree Press, and 365 Tomorrows, as well as at ian-li.com.
Snow’s falling endlessly, midwinter trees shimmering with ice. The woodcutter struggles through sparkling drifts. Reaches the enchanted wall and swings his axe, glittering shards flying. Everyone says it’s indestructible, but he’s determined to find out what’s on the other side.
Grandma returns the leaky snow globe. Gets a full refund.
Deborah writes at an old desk surrounded by five hundred pet bugs.
He proposed, promising, “I want you for me, forever.” She floated up the aisle, deeply happy. He was her everything; she told him so with her vows. But when he placed the ring through her nose and led her back down the aisle, she realized she had misunderstood his meaning.
A writer and community educator, Amanda Le Rougetel blogs at fiveyearsawriter.blogspot.com and teaches through writingastool.ca. She writes CNF essays, 50-word stories, and 100-word micro-memoir. Find her published work through Chill Subs.
This fish doesn’t care how big he is
Or the size of the pond
He just wants to do splashy backflips
And scout about brightly colored reefs
In his comfort zone safe and sure
There’s still much to explore right there
Warning his buddies of the allure
Of fancy-dressed hooks
Kelsey Mathias wrote this story.
“Click only images of feathers. Let other images scroll by.” Days reviewing parading pictures motivated me to mischief: I welcomed flowers, fish, and knives to pollute the data set. If our human minds must suffer uncertainty, confusion, and (like me) early onset dementia, artificial intelligence should suffer from them, too.
Scott Burnam’s ongoing creative acts include composing poetry, writing microfiction, and taking Instax photos. He spends some of his free time as a submissions reader for Bodega Magazine and stewards Little Free Libraries with his wife and youngest son in Phoenix, AZ.
On a midnight drive, we passed by the hand-painted sign, standing on the lot where the old Lutheran church used to be. You asked me about my faith and I found I could give you no sufficient answer. “Tell me,” you pried, “do you imagine His hands nail-scarred, or shaking?”
Karlie Taylor is a writer and a high school English teacher. Her work is published on various online platforms.