MICHAEL BIRD: Before You Judge

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

The rules are easy.

Don’t hit people, or shout at them.
If they say you’re too close, you’re too close.
If they say don’t touch, you mustn’t touch.

When I grew up, people didn’t follow the rules.
Didn’t follow them with me.
That’s my excuse.

I know it’s not enough.

Michael Bird is a Romania-based writer and journalist, with stories published by Here Comes Everyone, Lune Journal, Bandit Fiction, Storgy, Grist and Bristol Short Story Prize, among others. As a journalist, his work has appeared in Vice, Politico, Mediapart, EU Observer, and Business Insider, and on the BBC and Deutsche Welle. See more at michaelbirdjournalist.wordpress.com.

ROSALEEN LYNCH: Providing Opportunities for Another to Excel

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

I let her save me. Let her fish me from the sea and drag me to the shore. Push water from my lungs. Breathe for me. Bring me back to life.

She was afraid of everything until she realised her own strength. And how much I needed her to live.

Rosaleen Lynch is an Irish community worker and writer in the East End of London who pursues stories conversational, literary, and performed. She has words published in Jellyfish Review, EllipsisZine, Fish, Mslexia, The London Reader, Litro, and other lovely places and can be found on Twitter at @quotes_52 and 52Quotes.blogspot.com.

LISA MARIE LOPEZ: The Things We Said

Artistic, Submissions, , , , ,

We were playing catch in my backyard when Billy started in with his stories.

“My dad met Willie McCovey once.”

My face twitched. “Yeah? Mine met Willie Mays.”

Truth was, neither of us had a father. Still, I pretended to believe Billy’s stories, even though I couldn’t believe my own.

Lisa Marie Lopez resides in Northern California with her husband and two box turtles. She’s been recently published in The Ocotillo Review, From the Depths literary journal, and The Atomic Flyswatter: Vol.1 anthology. Say hello on her Facebook page.

SUSAN SAGARIN: The New Normal

Submissions, Touching, , ,

For decades, Stacy’s bedtime was three a.m., after Channel Four played the Star Spangled Banner and signed off for the night.

Now, Stacy and Channel Four are always on. At three a.m., she is spooning Dilaudid into her mom’s mouth.

Stacy hums the anthem. Her mom’s eyelids flutter, then close.

Susan Sagarin retired from Bloomberg Industry Group in 2020 after a 30-year career as an editor and content specialist. Her fiction, nonfiction, and recipes can be found at inspirationonafternoonlane.com.

MARJAN SIERHUIS: A Fresh Start

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

I open my window and lean out.

I shout for joy as people sing and dance in the streets below.

Snowflakes drift from the night sky, touch flushed cheeks, and then disappear.

I am at peace and in good health.

Let us rejoice as we all make a fresh start.

Marjan Sierhuis wishes everyone a healthy and joyful new year.

YASH SEYEDBAGHERI: Home

Artistic, Submissions, Top Stories, , , , , , ,

You live with white walls, an oak desk. Collections of Yates. Richard Ford.

This year, there’s no dirty jokes. No spaghetti sauce bubbling with tomato-colored cheer.

No hugs, lavender perfume, butter-colored lights blanketing you.

Just Zoom, accentuating shadows. You can’t feel polished stairways. Savor angles and doorways.

The lights dim.

Yash Seyedbagheri is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA fiction program. Yash’s work has been published in The Journal of Compressed Creative Arts and Ariel Chart, among others. He lives in Garden Valley, Idaho.

JENNIFER L FREED: In the Produce Section

Artistic, Submissions, , , , ,

Rachel’s been furloughed; she can’t afford to have groceries delivered.

She lives with her 78-year-old mother. Her teenage daughter has asthma.

She takes a spare mask from her purse and holds it out to the young woman picking through the peaches. “Please. It’s not for your freedom; it’s for ours.”

Jennifer L Freed writes mostly poems, and sometimes writes very short stories. Please visit her website at jfreed.weebly.com.

DUANE L HERRMANN: To Be A Brilliant Star

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

“Your star was getting dim today.”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Benton answered. “He just made me so angry.”

“I know. Here’s something I’ve learned: Do something nice for someone who doesn’t like you. They’ll see you differently, and be nicer to you.”

“That’ll be hard.”

“But worth it. You’ll shine again.”

Surprised to find himself on a Kansas farm in 1951, Herrmann is still trying to make sense of it, but in that time he’s fallen in love with the vast sky, wind waving grass, moonlight, and the shade of trees. He tries to write about some of these.

EILEEN MARDRES: The View

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

A sliver of sky, beacon of hope, connection to the wider world embraced by towers of urban life.

I watch morning’s rebirth, bright orange bursts slowly fading into daylight blues, then twist into my pillow of despair until midnight moon penetrates, connecting me again to the world outside my cell.

Eileen writes poetry and flash fiction and letters to her grandkids. She has used the pandemic as an excuse to spend more time writing.