The ghost takes its time. After a lifetime of stress and rushing this feels fine. It will work its way up to haunting, perhaps its old boss or ex-wife.
There was only simmering hatred when it was alive, but now thinking about her brings unexpected sadness, the memory of love.
Brian Maycock’s short fiction has appeared in outlets including The Drabble, 101 Words and Paragraph Planet. He lives in Scotland.
Vince blubbered about not having what it takes to join the order.
We talked some sense into him, left him in the bedroom, standing before that scratched-up mirror.
Waited by flashlight on dust-covered furniture, tree branches scraping against the windows.
He never came back downstairs.
Turns out Vince was right.
Tim Boiteau lives in Michigan, is the author of the dark fantasy novel The Drummer Girl, and a Writers of the Future winner. See more at timboiteau.com.
“As always?” asked the barista.
The wicker tables outside were soaked. The wind flopped the grey tarpaulin on the boats piteously huddling together in the harbor. The bright postcard swam in the puddle. He sneezed into a napkin.
“Could you make me hot coffee, please?”
The low season started today.
Nelly Shulman lives in Saint Petersburg and Berlin. She is an author of five novels and a collection of short stories. See more at nellyshulman.com.
The story of the week for September 27 to October 1 is…
The Man at the Door by Cathrine Goldstein
I found a tiny niche today that might be a home, a perfect fit for me with gives where I bulge and lifts where I lean, a door that welcomes thoughts and holes in the roof the size of words that fill the house up when the total reaches fifty.
Stephen Tilden came across this website an hour ago and wrote this to commemorate the discovery. He has been looking for this for a very long time!
Hidden away in the old metal box were memories, smiles, and tears. Photos sprang to life. Prom. Senior trip. My college sweetheart. Former roommates. Friends now residing in Heaven. Dreams. Achieved and forgotten. An indescribable ache, followed by renewed hope. And maybe, just maybe, another run at those unachieved dreams.
Alyce Clark enjoys getting lost in short stories. Occasionally, she writes a few herself.
To save the bees, we planted a garden crammed with inviting color. Zinnias, coneflowers, asters, lavender, fuchsia, sunflowers. They buzzed in, purring, and lugged away bags of pollen. Bonus: later, the neighbor with a hive brought a dripping honeycomb, saying thanks.
Grandma, deaf and blind now, could taste, and smile.
Marilyn McFarlane is a travel writer and the author of Sacred Stories: Wisdom From World Religions. She writes poetry and fiction and occasionally explores memoir. She lives in Oregon, where there is a lot of scope for the imagination.
Perched perilously upon the crest of Niagara Falls, the Harvest Moon sought to break free from the cyclical nature of its existence. Would it jump?
Looking on, I wished the cityscape would plunge into darkness, and an unseen moonbow suspended in the mist raise the spirits of the forlorn orb.
Scott G. Harvey teaches psychology at SUNY Buffalo State and resides in the Niagara Region of Ontario with an ever-changing mixture of humans, cats, dogs, and chickens. He is the author of the philosophically-infused bildungsroman Savagely Noble. His short-fiction has appeared in Short Story Avenue, 50-Word Stories and Visual Verse.
The skeleton under our porch knew us all. Its secret harmed no one until a detective knocked at our door. We answered his questions.
No, sir. Yes, sir. Never, sir.
We double-locked the door, loaded the shotgun. We knew how to deal with threats.
The skeleton need not be lonely.
Kay Rae Chomic has been published in 50-Word Stories, Cabinet of Heed, Ellipsis Zine, Retreat West, Every Day Fiction and other publications. She lives in Seattle dodging raindrops and is a Motown fan forever.
The Man at the Door
says goodnight to no one,
dons his hat,
shuffles down the steps,
climbs onto a bus
and off,
lumbering up four flights of stairs
to eat his half-thawed frozen dinner.
With TV flickering,
he watches out the window
for fireflies as elusive
as his dreams.
Cathrine Goldstein writes a whole lot of gritty, real-feeling “stuff.” Most of it takes place in NYC. She also eats boatloads of chocolate pretty much every day. To find out more about her bestselling novels, award-winning plays, and other writings including articles, short stories, blogs, and poetry, please visit CathrineGoldstein.com.