A towering amaryllis in a tiny pot appeared on the doorstep. Despite a consistently brown thumb, I transplanted it. Predictably, it died. After suitable mourning and procrastination, I found space to hide yet another failure among other deserted pots.
Then, from the dead, abandoned amaryllis: one tentative green tip emerged.
Eileen gets along better with words than with plants, making house plant survival a small miracle.
I met an angel. The honest-to-goodness real deal. A wholesome beauty, born of light, who smelled like early Sunday morning rain. She sparkled in the dimmest light, brightened even the darkest shadows. We tried living together for a while but she knocked me over every time she spread her wings.
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.
A spirit dances through a web of sunlight and shadows that streams in through the window. A cat, white as a jasmine flower, stares straight at him. He whispers his name into her ear, then fades into the light. What’s one more secret to a cat? Unimpressed, she grooms herself.
Janelle Seabock is a writer with a love for horror, fantasy, and animals of all kinds. She currently resides in Florida.
It was when the seas rebelled, devouring entire cities in their hungry jaws, and when the trees threw tantrums, pummeling their fists upon the paved surfaces, and the wind released its rage, uprooting concrete masses with billowing force—that was when we felt Mother Nature’s rage at what we’d done.
Maria Dean lives and writes in England. She has no fancy pants credentials, just a love of words and an ear for a good tale.
The story of the week for June 27 to July 1 is…
A Second Death by Nathaniel Mellor
To ease Alex’s anxiety, many remedies were trialled.
Neither medication nor meditation proved fruitful; still he agonised over his eventual demise.
A doctor displaying a shaded area upon an x-ray changed things. With a finite amount of time, the finishing line was truly in sight.
Strangely, Alex finally felt free.
Steven Holding lives in the United Kingdom. Most recently, his work has appeared in CTRL ALT DELETE from Black Ink Fiction and DARK MOMENTS YEAR THREE from Black Hare Press. You can follow his work at www.stevenholding.co.uk.
Pierre glumly rinsed another strawberry. Bastille Day had sneaked up on him. Consequently, there were no baguettes or chocolate soufflés, and he wouldn’t hunt for snails in his robe. All he had was these strawberries. The kings of the berry world.
He picked up another, cheerfully slicing off the top.
Diane Ferguson graduated from Brigham Young University with a BA in English and a Master of Public Administration (MPA). She has spent most of her career as an editor. Currently she enjoys exercising, improving her French, and singing (accompanied by criticism from her five-year-old).
A multitude of stars and their constellations. A fleeting meteorite or two. A moon larger than life. Time stretching to the edge of the visible universe and beyond. Wonders unknown. I fondly recall growing up in the country, and how my walks in the fields after dark enlightened me.
Ellis Shuman is an American-born Israeli author, travel writer, and book reviewer. His writing has appeared in The Jerusalem Post, The Times of Israel, The Oslo Times, and The Huffington Post. He is the author of The Virtual Kibbutz, Valley of Thracians, and The Burgas Affair. His short fiction has appeared in Isele Magazine, Vagabond, Literary Yard, The Write Launch, Adelaide Literary, and other literary publications. You can find him at https://ellisshuman.blogspot.com/.
Each of us dies twice, they say.
Once when you draw your last breath, once when your name is spoken for the last time.
Ever since I heard that, I walk through graveyards just to read the names.
One day, their name will never be spoken again.
But not today.
Nathaniel Mellor is a short story writer and poet who lives in Southern Italy with his partner. He has work published or forthcoming in Willawaw Journal, Second Chance Lit, MASKS!, Six Sentences, Birdseed, Moria, among others. He is the current fiction editor at Pigeon Review. You can find him on Twitter at @MellorNathaniel.
“Maybe Parkinson’s,” he said flatly, taking a quick glance at his watch, then the office door, measuring the seconds left in his obligation. “…Can’t be. Twenty-nine is too young for that.”
Thirty-seven years old now, I count the ticks of a second hand on my trembling wrist, still too young.
Jay Haley is a Mississippi-born writer living near Iowa City, IA. As a Parkinson’s Disease patient, he hopes to use his writing to illuminate the issues facing the disabled in the United States and beyond.