They were waiting here for the train
Not a word had been spoken
And yet they knew there was significance to their waiting.
Circumstances had placed them here as much as led them on.
This was their future, their hopes, their dreams, their everything.
The train would take them home.
Bruce Levine, a native Manhattanite, has spent his life as a writer of fiction and poetry and as a music and theatre professional and is published on and in numerous internet and print journals. His work is dedicated to the loving memory of his late wife, Lydia Franklin.
Ever since the accident, there are hardly any dinner plates in the dishwasher. Mostly coffee mugs and teaspoons. Our dinette is covered in unopened mail: fundraisers, magazine subscriptions, and mail-order catalogs, all addressed to you.
I envy the cat patiently loitering in windows. She still believes you are coming back.
Andrée Gendron wrote this story. See more at andreedianegendron.com.
She won’t stop haunting me.
I can see her wavy hair. I can hear her sweet voice. I can smell her soap and fragrance. I can taste her red lips. I can still sense her as I walk over the ground where I buried her.
She won’t stop haunting me.
Chad Bunch writes speculative fiction from the suburbs of Saint Louis. He is currently trying to publish the first of many novels.
The old man’s smell in her palm
Memory spread the pang of last lovemaking
Dark rain pecked the windows; dark sun shone; the coffee mug held her hands
New Yorkers’ podcast still on; it kept rewinding
Yet she couldn’t stay in this repetition of life
When they were both evaporating.
Azarin Sadegh, a 2011 PEN America Emerging Voices fellow, a LARB contributor, and a former student of the late Les Plesko, is working on a new novel.
The story of the week for July 1 to 5 is…
1000 Yards by Adrian L. Cook
The Story of the Month is chosen from the Story of the Week winners announced from the past month.
The finalists for June were:
Last of the Lemons by Christine Nedahl
Her Glorious Face by Laura Besley
The View After the Climb by Bob Thurber
Bedraggled by Lionel Ray Green
At the Bottom of the Lake by Lauren Everhart-Deckard
Panhandler by Alan Kemister
The winner of the June 2019 Story of the Month, and the $10 prize, is…
The View After the Climb
Honourable mention: Her Glorious Face
I’m amazed by the way Bob Thurber’s story paints a picture of perseverance through pain, the ability to continue pressing forward despite a seemingly endless landscape of metaphorical mountains to ascend.
I have to give some recognition to Laura Besley’s story, because of the strength of the imagery. Bob’s contribution will stand as the official finalist for Story of the Year, because I felt he made better use of language and delivered a slightly more complex concept, but Laura’s work was really special.
On my back, I imagine looking out a window, calculating how much I’ve paid for the ties that bind versus the cost of cutting loose, the price of sleeping in a maternity ward versus a prison, my old bed or yours, in or out of doors, feeling trapped either way.
Moss Ingram is an associate professor at Grand Rapids Community College and co-author of the forthcoming textbook, Contemporary Product Development: A Focus on Innovation (Cognella). His poetry has appeared in Crack the Spine and One Sentence Poems, and his fiction has appeared in The Caribbean Writer.
My heart has shattered and the shards are everywhere.
Each shard a memory, each memory most precious.
Goodbyes were said, tears were shed, hugs gratefully given and received.
The end of the school year; I will never see most of these students again.
China is a long way from America.
Daniel Quillen is retired and living in China, teaching English at a Chinese university. He just wrapped up his final semester there.
Glass shards sparkled against the flagstones in the light of stark realization. He repented and reversed time, erasing the mess and its memory.
The crystal ball sank heavily in his hands and glimmered darkly, foreboding.
He could bear no more. He hurled it down.
Glass shards sparkled against the flagstones…
John Samuel Anderson lives one nautical mile from the beach and five light-milliseconds from space. When not speculating on human colonization of the stars, he enjoys life on Earth with his wife, seven kids, a cat, and a bunny. See more at twostarshipgarage.wordpress.com.
Hans watched from the observation deck as the ground fell away.
In his mind he imagined the look on Dieter’s face when he checked their company bank account and found it empty. He grinned with spiteful delight as the Hindenburg rose and began its fateful journey across the Atlantic Ocean.
Bill lives in Aberdeen, Scotland. His parents were time-travellers from the 22nd Century and he knows the result of every single significant sporting event for the next hundred years. Watch out for Soviet Union II winning the 2046 World Cup.