The story of the week for August 21 to 25 is…
Imprints by David Lowis
JENNIFER SARA WIDELITZ: In a Dark, Dark Room
The darkness—a thick sheet of steel. Impenetrable. Even time’s fingers, not finding purchase, had slipped silently from the room.
The man scoured every inch by hand. Found nothing.
No door opened—yet… a change.
A bend in the air. Breath down his neck.
Someone was there with him.
Waiting.
Jennifer Sara Widelitz is currently a student at the University of Edinburgh in Scotland, pursuing an MSc in Creative Writing. She has a BFA in Visual Effects from the Savannah College of Art and Design and worked as a compositor, creating special effects for film and television. Her poetry and photography have been featured in various literary publications. She is the author of Battle Cry and illustrator of A Heavenly World. To find out more, visit her website.
LINDA FEIST: Holding Court
Laura lovingly laid out her husband’s clothes.
Now, after thirty years, the professor dresses alone.
His brilliant mind, incapable of ordinary, combines odd colors with zany patterns. People smirk and stare. They call him the Jester.
He doesn’t mind. He’s juggling balls of sorrow and heartbreak in the air, anyway.
Linda Feist has been published in Flash Fiction Magazine, the Florida Writers Collection series, Chicken Soup for the Soul, and other publications. Fellow writers inspire her.
DAVID LOWIS: Imprints
That woodland path, where you walked Dexter each morning. Worn by your footsteps. Those daffodils, flowering from the bulbs you planted. That watercolour, painted by your hands. Until that path is overgrown, those daffodils no longer bloom, that painting has faded to nothing, how can I say you’re truly gone?
David Lowis lives in Surrey, England, and has had microfiction and short stories published in various online publications.
TALIESIN PLATT: The death of me
“You’re gonna be the death of me.”
And she smiled and maybe more of me died the way that fern died sitting on my desk: a little more each time the water came—drowned—and how could you tell, when its leaves turned dry and brittle, that it wasn’t thirsty?
Taliesin is a university student studying creative writing, focusing on short fiction at the moment (not usually this short).
PETER CHERCHES: Truth and Reconciliation
I had a little truth and reconciliation session with myself the other morning. I did the voices of all my accusers. Their testimony was totally devastating. In my own voice, all I could say, over and over, was, “I never knew you felt that way,” as the accusations piled on.
Called “one of the innovators of the short short story” by Publishers Weekly, Peter Cherches has published short prose in scores of magazines, anthologies and websites, including Harper’s, Fence, Bomb, Semiotext(e), and Fiction International. His most recent book is Things, a collection of short prose and poetry from Bamboo Dart Press.
AMANDA LE ROUGETEL: Gushing not required
1958: Calling the “doctor” was impossible, since he did not work in a clinic. His instructions for overnight monitoring post-procedure had been vague but emphatic: WATCH FOR A HAEMORRHAGE. Tragically, she didn’t realize that even a tiny trickle of blood, steady, minute after lonely minute, for hours, was precisely that.
Amanda Le Rougetel writes flash-length creative nonfiction and micro-length fiction. Find her published work on Chill Subs.
JEAN LLENOS: Last Update
Beautiful.
A gaudy word. Nonlethal.
Unnecessary for us machines of war.
Notice: new patch, titled “Last Update”.
Size: 21TB
Download time: 40 seconds
My armor is now unbearably suffocating. I tear it off.
My face, the sky, they reflect back at me from my doffed plates.
I never realized.
Beautiful.
Jean Llenos is an aspiring author and MD candidate based in Ohio. He is a lover of all things fantastical and strange.
STEPHANIE LANE GAGE: The Crystal Prism
Every day he ascended the creaking stairs, carefully removed the cloth from the clouded crystal prism, and asked the same question—only to receive the same answer. Until the day came that the stairs stayed silent and the cloth, left undisturbed, was obscured by soft-falling dust, and dustier, and dustier.
Stephanie Lane Gage is an artist and writer in Los Angeles, CA. Her short story “Anomalous Instances of Black Ball Lightning in Daggett, Michigan” was recently published in Interzone (issue #295). You can find more of her visual and written work at @slg.pdf.
DEBORAH TAPPER: Gone Fishing
Sunrise tints the lake, delicate hues drifting into a perfect rose-gold morning. Skimming dragonflies dance while leaping trout emboss the drowsy water with tiny crystal rainbows. Everyone thinks I’m chasing dinner, but I’ve got beer in my cooler, a book and empty hook.
All I’m catching is peace and quiet.
Deborah writes at an old desk surrounded by five hundred pet bugs.