The left arm was too long. Distracted, she’d miscounted the rows above the cuff.
He’d just grin and blame his shoulder. That permanent, lopsided shrug that gave his silhouette such beautiful asymmetry.
As she laid the neatly folded pullover on the grass, she noticed his headstone leaned the same way.
Tamsin is disappointed that she has never mastered knitting.
I was never so afraid
one night in winter,
when you were lost
you simply walked out
not saying a word.
the danger was real
where did you go?
I’ve worried so much.
To see you this way
it’s not fair,
you’re a whole different person.
Ana M. Torres (aka A.M. Torres) is the author of the Child Series beginning with Love Child which was first published in 2011. She has also published her poetry books Shadowed Tears, and Turmoil. She currently lives in New York with her two sons. See more at christmas1102.wixsite.com/mysite.
He swirled his spindly grey finger in the air before pointing randomly at the galactic charts.
“So where are we going for our vacation?” she asked, with bated breath.
He drew back his finger, revealing an isolated blue and green planet.
“Darn! Practice shot?” he asked.
“Practice shot,” she agreed.
Melanie Rees is an Australian author. She has published over 60 stories in markets such as Apex, Daily Science Fiction, Persistent Visions, and Aurealis. You can follow her on Twitter @FlexiRees or at flexirees.wordpress.com.
She smiles, legs dangling carelessly from the roof. Blue eyes reflect an array of glittering galaxies.
Another speckle dots the black.
How I wonder
Her eyes widen, stomach tightening.
Hands clasp ears over the meteoric roars
Sirens. A mother’s horrified scream.
Fifteen-year-old Megan lives in Florida with her family and her cat named Luna Petra Zane. This is her first “plunge” into the realm of 50 word fiction.
Ted was tired of waiting. He was a man of little patience.
All her life he’d waited while she did her hair, looked for her other shoe, or changed her dress (again).
“Oh, Dad,” she’d scold.
Now he waits to walk her down the aisle. He’s willing to wait forever.
Candace Kubinec posts her stories at storydribbles.wordpress.com and her poetry at rhymeswithbug.com.
A merman wearing a seaweed waistcoat burst from the water and landed in our gondola, showering us with spray.
“Marry him, you idiot!” he yelled, then dived back into the canal.
Drenched and bewildered, Mary nodded weakly as I got down on one knee for the second time that day.
Mark Farley writes novels, flash fiction, and the occasional poem. Find him on twitter at @mumbletoes.
Between sleep and wakefulness lies a moment of possibilities. She hovers there, feelings of desire and longing rekindled by dreams of him. Should she call? Risk rejection. Refrain? Always wonder.
Daylight seeping through a gap in the curtains brings reality with it. She remembers the heartbreak. Her phone stays untouched.
Bridget Scrannage lives near Bath with her husband. She’s the founder of an international online writing community with 120 members. See more at bridgetscrannage.wordpress.com.
Help me, I’ve won the lottery.
My mother sued me, my father’s stalking me, my brother tried to poison me, all because of my money.
I’ve changed my name three times and lived in and fled from six continents in three months.
Someone please help me. I won the lottery.
Chelsea Roberts has not won the lottery. She spends her days writing fiction at pastpaperanswers.com.
When she leaves
it doesn’t matter
what we’ve been through
sadness and guilt
are transformed into
smiley face emojis
triple exclamation points
love you forevers
and I respond in kind
of course I do
we adore one another
especially from a distance.
The truth is in the text.
Robin Lubatkin does circle time with the very young and what she calls “songhealing” with the very old.
Circling Aldebaran is a small white star known as Thea. Some call it a planet. It is a refuge, a resting place, a respite where the white things can go to escape such that the black things might not destroy them.
This says nothing, of course, of the yellow things.
Kenny A. Chaffin writes poetry, fiction, and nonfiction and has published work in Mobius: The Journal of Social Change, Microfiction Monday Magazine, 365 Tomorrows, Speculative 66, James Gunn’s Ad Astra, 101 Word Stories, Star*Line and others. He grew up in southern Oklahoma and now lives in Denver where he works hard to support two cats, numerous wild birds and a bevy of squirrels. His poetry collections and other work are available on Amazon. Find more at kacweb.com.