Night-time, black ink water; the open-air pool’s easy to break into.
Skinny dipping, diving in at the deep end. Ignoring the sting of chlorine, washing away the sweat of the last day of Summer.
Being young means never knowing time is running out.
Sinking, they kiss.
Hold their breath forever.
Steven Holding lives in the United Kingdom. Most recently, his work has appeared in ANNIHILATION from Black Ink Fiction. You can follow his work at www.stevenholding.co.uk.
The morning after Christmas, he awakens miles downstream, on a bed of sheepskins, beneath a lean-to of snow-covered boughs. While he feeds wood to the fire, which has diminished to coals, he remembers dreaming a song, hearing chords rippling in his heart, the melody carrying him across the frozen river.
Bob Thurber is the author of six books. Regarded as a master of Flash and Micro Fiction, his work has appeared in Esquire and other magazines, been anthologized 60 times, received a long list of awards, and been utilized in schools and colleges throughout the world. He resides in Massachusetts. Visit his website at BobThurber.net.
I am young. I am strong. I am virile.
My son doesn’t love me. I don’t mind. I never needed his love. I never will.
My brother doesn’t love me, either.
I am still young.
I am empire. I am young. I am empire. I am empire. I am I
Isaac Fox is an English and creative writing major at Lebanon Valley College. His work has previously appeared in Tiny Molecules, Rejection Letters, and several other publications. You can find him on Twitter at @isaac_k_fox.
Candy is my working name
when I work, I make ends meet
some say I’m a little tart
though so many find me sweet
You would never go
to the low places I have been
though you’d likely know
many high-placed men
It’s questionable what I do—
also question who.
D. Avery plays with words at shiftnshake.wordpress.com. Her work sometimes appears in periodicals and publications.
Toes to curl in dewy grass. Legs to run and leap, knees scraped from landings. A chest for excited yells and ribs to keep her safe. A dewy face to show her dissatisfaction. Lips to say, “I’m too skinny.” A mother to say, “At least you’re not fat like me.”
Cecilia Marchinski is a fiction writer. Born and raised in Austin, Texas, she now resides in Scotland.
Not sure the name. The shade Jean-Michel painted with. Flick through glossy pages, point to a reprint. ‘Untitled, 1982’. The clerk nods, turns away. Comes back with a small sample.
Later, then, after the stains, and second coat, had dried…
The high-res catalogue made the blue bolder than it was.
Nikita Linivenko is his own harshest critic. He found this story stale, vapid, and a little less than inconsequential. But at least he arranged his words fashionably.
The story of the week for December 19 to 23 is…
The Dying of the Sun by Swapna Sanchita
I wrote to him again last week. Couldn’t help myself. Only to say thank you for working your magic (moving Jonathan in next door) and could you possibly have a look at red lipsticks this year.
You see, he’s been so good to me, he’s like family now, Santa is.
Jeanette is starting with fifty words and will, slowly, work her way up to a novel.
I woke to a tooth. Tucked under my pillow.
Thought it was an aspirin at first, but it was enamel smooth with little ridges and that cave where it fit in a mouth.
The spot where I’d found it waited. I dug a quarter from my laundry bin and paid.
Elena Eiss is a student in Pittsburgh CAPA’s Literary Arts Department. She is a fan of fiction and an avid reader. Her work has won Scholastic Writing Awards regionally and nationally, and the Pittsburgh City Theatre produced a one-act play of hers in 2021.
“Whoa. Is that a .32?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re selling it?”
“It’s out here, ain’t it?”
“Looks new.”
“Nearly. Only used once.”
“Really?”
“It was my husband’s.”
“Was?”
“Yeah.”
“Does he know you’re selling it?”
“Nope.”
“How do you know he doesn’t want it?”
“He’s not gonna be using it anymore.”
Jerry Jerman is a writer, film instructor, and travel enthusiast. His fiction has appeared in Prairie Schooner and 101-words and his nonfiction in Oklahoma Humanities. As a film instructor, he delights in teaching such films as Chinatown, Sunset Boulevard, and Dr. Strangelove.