Between the commuter train and the office, the lunch break and working late.
Between the park and the bookshop, where I delay going home, to the apartment where I don’t want to be.
Before the morning alarm begins another day.
I never really stop.
Anything to not think, not feel.
Brian Maycock’s short stories have recently appeared in The Drabble, Flash Fiction Magazine and Paragraph Planet. He lives in Scotland.
I lost everything in the divorce and was reduced to shopping at the pound store. Diane hooked up with a younger guy, who swiftly left her after the hefty settlement.
Next time I saw her she was in the aisle opposite, feeding her favourite mink coat tins of cheap tuna.
Raymond Sloan lives and writes in County Down, Ireland. He has recently been published in 50 Give or Take, The Dribble Drabble Review, and 101 Words.
The fairy folk, once here or there,
would dance about without a care.
But also looking for some gold,
at least that’s what I had been told.
Abundant things they did arrange
with talents that were passing strange,
but dancing at a languid pace
they vanished, leaving not a trace.
Don Nigroni is a retired labor economist and volunteer Weed Warrior at the John Heinz National Wildlife Refuge.
We’re driving into the countryside when Howlin’ Wolf begins crooning over the radio. Blues night on KSYM, San Antonio’s college station. The further we move from the orange hue of the city lights, the darker it becomes.
The frequency flickers. I look down to change the dial.
A deer appears.
R.J. Stanford is a former student of Southwest Texas Junior College. He holds a lifetime membership to Sigma Tau Delta. Career-wise, the author is working toward an English professorship. He and his wife reside in Hondo, Texas. Follow him on Twitter at @byRJStanford.
The story of the week for July 26 to 30 is…
Storm’s Wake by Katherine Gleason
and
They all Take her Photo in the Lounge by Marie Little
It was an ordinary weekday for the two retirees. He wanted to go to the shore; she wanted to catch up on her writing. She gave in.
A horn bellowed from the speakers somewhere above. They looked oceanward as the whale came up for air.
She had her next story.
Ruth Mannino is a retired math teacher, tutor, and business analyst, who has always loved to write. Meditation and mindfulness being a part of her everyday life, in 2020, she published Thursday Mornings: Breathe, Stretch, Listen, Love, a series of interviews she conducted with senior members of her chair yoga class. She has just discovered flash fiction and finds it motivating!
Grandma believes in traditions: homemade pie crust, Sunday morning prayer, peanuts at the ballgame. She also believes comfort food can mend anything.
Shortly after her team loses in the World Series, we wait for the clatter of silver tablespoons and egg-beaters and the aroma of cake batter to set in.
Lisa Marie resides in Northern California. She’s had stories published in Blink-Ink and The Ocotillo Review, among others.
After a year of combing through my memories on social media, I’ve finally deleted every photo, check-in, and tag with my ex. Public records and memories are all that’s left of our relationship.
Coincidentally, there was a devastating fire at the courthouse last night.
Now only those who remember remain.
When Eddie D. Moore isn’t playing with his grandchildren, he is driving and visiting strange new worlds via audiobooks, or he is lost in his imagination writing his own tales. Pick up a copy of Poe-ish Tales Forevermore today! You’ll be glad you did… if you can sleep tonight.
What was once an uninhabited rock blazed into light.
Looking up from Earth, children wished upon its neon cities and dreamed of winter vacations to Mare Imbrium, now outfitted with low gravity ski slopes.
After illuminating the moon, we will sally forth into the darkness beyond our outer solar system.
Angela Acosta is a PhD Candidate in Iberian Studies at The Ohio State University. Her work has appeared in ¿Qué Pasa, Ohio State?, Rainy Day Literary Magazine, and mOthertongue Literary Journal.
The market was crowded, lot of noises, people chatting out loud.
I didn’t want to lose you so I grabbed your hand.
Felt so different, so distant. I thought: what could I possibly have done wrong?
I had to stop, ask you why, then I realized…
it wasn’t your hand.
Heidi Beltran lives in Buenos Aires, Argentina. She has seen the evidence of God’s love daily throughout life.