F CLAIRE HANKENSON: Academic Confetti

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

They cleared their father’s office in the weeks after, removing textbooks and memorabilia. Surprisingly, no bottles stashed in drawers as they’d found at his home. Instead, slips of paper, strewn across surfaces. Each handwritten with a name and salary, his own included (and smaller): confetti to memorialize his academic obsolescence.

Fiona C. Hankenson lives and works in Philadelphia. She is trained in veterinary science and is widely published in professional journals and texts. Currently, she is exploring her passion for creative writing, informed by her life experiences, while enrolled in the MFA program and Ranier Writing Workshop through Pacific Lutheran University.

DEBRA KUZBIK: Douglas F.

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

Hello, old friend. It’s been a while.

Is something wrong? I see sap tears rolling down your trunk.

It’s the logging, isn’t it? You’ve lost most of your ancestors and family members disappear daily.

We will make them stop. It’s the least we can do, considering all you’ve given us.

Debra Kuzbik lives on Vancouver Island where, in addition to writing, she enjoys painting, photography, gardening, and beach walks.

RACHEL PRATHER: TBR (To Be Read)

Amusing, Submissions, , , ,

The book leaves the shop, ready for its new home. Once there, it is nestled with care among other pristine titles.

“Welcome,” says the novel to its left.

The book is confused. “Wait, aren’t I supposed to be read before I’m put on the shelf?”

The shelves ring with laughter.

Rachel Prather (she/her) is a professional and creative writing student at the University of Cincinnati. She is an aspiring author currently working on a nerdy LGBTQ+ YA contemporary novel. Connect with her on IG at @rachelelizabeth.writes.

DAVE BARRETT: The Hummingbird Café

Artistic, Submissions, Touching, , , ,

I met her at the Hummingbird Café.

We smiled, we laughed, our hearts sang, danced and spun about the room.

We shared our stories, our loves, our dreams.

Then her phone rang.

A pause.

Yes.

No.

And then—without warning, without any explanation—she flew away from the Hummingbird Café.

Dave Barrett lives and writes out of Montana. His fiction has appeared most recently in New Reader, Weber Journal and Camas–the Nature of the West. He teaches writing at Missoula College.

TODD MERCER: Inscrutability

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

Hard to judge the judge’s reaction to the trial’s testimony. He guards his opinions behind smoked quartz shades. No one present knows whether the defendant will win freedom or be condemned to hard labor, mining gems for use in making… sunglasses.

That’s the point, the uncertainty. Tension that serves justice.

Todd Mercer writes fiction and poetry in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and he loves this life.

YOGITA KHANDGE: Brown, Black, White

Amusing, Artistic, Submissions, Top Stories, , , ,

In my brown country, I am ridiculed for being black.

In the country of white, all my countrymen are called brown.

We apply creams to make our skin fair, and the white ones tan their skin brown.

God told me he was tired of us, so he now paints skies.

Yogita Khandge wrote this story.

BEN WESTERHAM: Logs For Sale

Amusing, Submissions, , ,

Logs for sale, the sign said, so he stole a few and burned them on his open fire. Went back for more the following week, then the next and next again.

She watched him drive away the fourth time and smiled, confident the hidden gunpowder would end his brazen thieving.

Ben Westerham is in the midst of letting slip the chains of paid employment so he can spend ever more time writing, reading, gardening and uncovering fascinating nuggets about his criminal ancestors.

SUSAN GALE WICKES: Eyes

Submissions, Top Stories, Touching, , , , ,

It was 1947 when Minerva first got lost in a pair of pale blue eyes.

Over the years, those eyes met hers across the breakfast table, watched her mend socks, and comforted her during childbirth with their slow, steady gaze.

Now, forever closed, she could still feel them.

Watching.

Waiting.

Susan Gale Wickes wrote this story.

THOMAS MALLOCH: Dishes

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

I’d reach for the dishcloth, squared in black and white, and you’d don the Marigolds. Together, we’d wash and rinse and dry the cares from the world. Till finally, the chequered flag was raised and placed back on its hook.

I miss that: the dailiness, the dalliance in our lives.

Thomas Malloch wrote this story.