The story of the week for December 20 to 24 is…
At 84 You Keep Your Glass Half Full by Jennifer L. Freed
BRENDA BERNSTEIN: Portal
After failing to buy limes, she gives up on the recipe,
____Goes walking in the park,
____Does a double-take at seeing a lime in the dirt.
Weeks later, same spot, another double-take:
____A single-serve apple sauce for tonight’s recipe.
____Organic!
Soon, she will learn
____Expectation strips portals of all magic.
Brenda is the owner of The Essay Expert LLC and the best-selling author of How to Write a KILLER LinkedIn Profile. She spends her days in the world of resumes and LinkedIn profiles and enjoys writing creatively when inspiration hits. See more at theessayexpert.com.
JENNIFER L FREED: At 84 You Keep Your Glass Half Full
You remember how it was—
the tree your father cut,
your brother and you, tinsel
everywhere. The strands of bulbs
that wouldn’t light. You hold it
close—the laughter, the warmth.
True, your parents argued,
your brother teased.
But in your later years,
you choose the versions
that sustain you.
Jennifer L. Freed writes mostly poems and sometimes writes very short stories.
DENISE BANKS: Missing
I scream but nobody hears me.
I bleed and nobody cleans it.
I cry but there is no tissue in sight.
So I leave.
I leave the place where there is no help.
Don’t miss me now when you think of this;
Help me yesterday.
Tomorrow is too late.
Denise Banks is currently in the grade 12 year of high school.
GENE NEWMAN: Pro and Con
Very sad news. The beloved president of our debating club has passed away.
The funeral is tomorrow and I’m quite upset about the arrangements.
As is only proper, our club’s vice president will be giving the eulogy.
But, against my protestations, I was chosen by lot to give the rebuttal.
Gene Newman wrote this story.
ANGELINE SCHELLENBERG: Who Needs a Shrink?
Rudi closed her locker, yawned and turned. Feet. She looked up. Everyone was staring. She hadn’t been trying this time. But here she was: three inches tall. If she hurried to the cafeteria, she would have time to treat herself to a giant piece of cake before she grew again.
Angeline Schellenberg authored the Manitoba Book Award-winning Tell Them It Was Mozart (Brick, 2016) and Fields of Light and Stone (UAP, 2020), shortlisted for the KOBZAR Book Award. Her micro-fiction appeared recently in Fewer Than 500, Café Lit, and The Drabble. She hosts Speaking Crow, the longest-running poetry open-mic in Winnipeg, Canada.
ADAMSON WOOD: Condensation
I write me down—me in a perfume, a take-my-card—paraphrases and filters, puzzled pieces petrified on Twitter bios and resumes, an endless search for your cup of tea without knowing if you even like tea. Me tomorrow, me today, me recycled and gargled and compressed. Speed dating. Skin shedding. Trial. Error.
Adamson Wood is…
SANDI DOLLINGER: Last Fling November
Maddie snoring on couch
Me scribbling at desk
Wind outdoors pummeling
Japanese maple to jive to the beat
No snowflake flying, moans maple
No Mr. Wyeth to wash
wintry white o’er brindled rags
No Gustav K to splotch
springtime scarlet o’er crimson reds
Wind roaring
Eh, Mamuszka! Cha-cha cha!
Amen
Sandi Dollinger is a teacher/artist living in downtown Albany, NY. She is a writer of fiction and plays. In January her play “Encore, Encore, Missus Gefilte Fish! will be read as a staged reading in Colonie, NY.
CMF WRIGHT: Duplicity
“Your contract is up,” the demon declares. “Eternal damnation awaits!”
The witch doesn’t move. “About that,” she says. “I… may have signed the contract using someone else’s blood.”
“Whose blood?”
Her eyes, alight with mischief, dart toward his bandaged foot. The demon suddenly has a very bad feeling about this.
C.M.F. Wright (@cmf_wright) is an avid reader and sentence wrangler. Her short stories have appeared in Daily Science Fiction, Fifty Word Stories, Microfiction Monday, and Syntax & Salt Magazine.
BOB THURBER: Falling into Winter’s Sleep
After draining and storing the nutrients from their leaves,
the trees pulled great gusts of wind through the forest,
combing the color from their branches,
each tree having been taught by its mother how to stiffen against fierce cold,
while twisted tentacles of delicate root fibers overlap,
reveling in gossip.
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.