NIKOV SPRINDLOSI: Off the Wrong Lot

Amusing, Artistic, Poetry, Submissions, , , ,

Go on,
steal my words,
but leave my zen

Play with fire,
trick the birds
drive my car,
cruise away
Then,

When you’re ready
wrong and steady,
sell my work:
Change the plates,
fix the dates,
strip the color,
and my quirk.

Feel that pucker?
Oops!
Enjoy your lemon, sucker

Nikov Sprindlosi enjoys writing poetry, shiny hunting, and thinking up new worlds to explore. He currently lives in Michigan working as an Editorial Assistant by day and writing novels by night. Check out more of his work on his Instagram, @nikovsprindlosi, where he posts new poetry every Sunday and Tuesday.

BRIAN MAYCOCK: The Way of the Dinosaurs

Amusing, Artistic, Submissions, , ,

He spends all day at the museum. Since he lost his job, he can.

He sits on a bench. His back has gone. His hair is going.

He sighs and thinks how it is only a matter of time before a sign appears at his feet:

“Late era man. Extinct.”

Brian Maycock’s short stories have recently appeared in 101 Words, The Drabble, and Paragraph Planet.

DAVID MALONE: Sea Creatures

Adventure, Submissions, , ,

“Why is everyone afraid of these new sea creatures?” the boy asked his mother.

“I just need you to pack your bag right now, okay, sweetie?” his mother said, frantically stuffing a suitcase.

The boy slid a toy into his bag then paused, “Where is the Sea of Tranquility, anyway?”

David Malone is a writer and editor for a trade magazine in the Chicago suburbs. His fiction has appeared in Fiction Vortex and MiddleWestern Voice.

DEVIN OLDHAM: Feeding Time

Adventure, Submissions, , , ,

This was the last place he’d seen the creature. The lake three miles off from their cabin. He supposed it was his cabin now. Since his father passed away, it only belonged to him. He spread the ashes into the black water as if salting a bland meal. “Eat up.”

Devin Oldham is a Canadian dark fantasy writer focusing on rural and small town horror.

DEBORAH TAPPER: Starting Over

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

Although she hasn’t seen her abusive ex-husband for years, she recognises that arrogant swagger instantly, the contemptuous sneer. He’s heading straight for her. She would’ve cowered and hidden once, but things are very different now. One leap and he’s a memory under velvet paws. She struts away, tail held high.

Deborah writes at an old desk surrounded by five hundred pet bugs.

DAVID GALLOWAY: 14B & 14C

Amusing, Submissions, , ,

I told her, “I’m the perfect traveler. I don’t get airsick. I pack light. I research the culture in advance. I’m not leaving you, because I always come back.”

She said, “I believe you, but this is a nine-hour flight, I’m not your wife, and I’d like to be reseated.”

David Galloway is a writer and college professor of Russian. Born and raised in Maryland, for the past twenty-five years he has lived in upstate New York. He is the author of poyms for people (Kelsay Books, 2021), and his poetry and essays have most recently appeared in Atlanta Review, the American Journal of Poetry, Typehouse, Permafrost, and Penn Review.

SARAH NASSAR: Crush

Submissions, Touching, , ,

He’s tall, a full head taller than I am. And he’s handsome. I really like his laugh. For someone who doesn’t talk much, it’s surprisingly loud.

Today, I saw him talking to someone as I sat far away. With every touch, my heart broke. With every smile, my chest tightened.

Sarah Nassar is an English Literature student living and writing in Egypt.

GENE NEWMAN: Eye Wonder

Amusing, Poetry, Puns and Wordplay, Submissions, , ,

It would be wrong to group “optimists”
with “opticians” and “optometrists”;
and tell me, what in the world are opthalmologists?

Each puzzling optical allusion
is bound to cause a great deal of confusion.

How strange the names and how much they vary.

And can one buy bifocals from a visionary?

Gene Newman is a retired old guy (90 yrs) and former New Jersey journalist and columnist. Read more at GeneNewmanImagineThat.com.

KENT OSWALD: Loser’s Lament

Amusing, Poetry, Submissions, , , ,

Few numbers short of a Lottery win
Six, to be exact
That deal I made with Satan?
He screwed me on the pact

I really thought him trustworthy
His eyes, they shone like gold
To be fair it might not be all his fault
As I sold him another’s soul

Kent Oswald teaches at CUNY and tweets at @oswalke.