ANDREA DAMIC: Ineffable, Really

Amusing, Submissions, Touching, , , ,

She is sitting at the table, laughing and talking. No special occasion, just one of those days when you are grateful to be surrounded by family.

There’s serenity to it. Ineffable, really.

She glances at her wrinkled hands with a deep sigh.

For a second the picture comes to life…

Andrea Damic lives in Sydney, Australia with her husband and a six-year-old daughter. She is an accountant by profession but writing was always her first love. The only time she can actually write is at night, when everyone is asleep. She has written two children’s picture books (no publications yet) and is working on a novel as well.

RACHEL CONWELL: Corridors and coffee cups

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

Corridors and coffee cups. Tattered posters and dusty hopes.

Sitting, waiting for news of you. Staring at the ceiling. Careful not to let the medics see the panic behind my eyes. Desperate to control my fear.

Waiting for the results of every test. Praying they have forgotten the tox screen.

Rachel Canwell is a teacher and book blogger, writing in secret for years but starting to put her head about the parapet!

KAYLEIGH SHOEN: An hour into the Whale Watch I remember why we broke up the first time

Amusing, Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

Suddenly he’s an expert on whales. Their weight, their songs…

…evolved from land animals the size of goats. And eat 5,000 pounds of fish every day. If they still lived on land…

Tuning him out, I watch the whales. Imagining all the delicacies they missed out on, settling for krill.

Kayleigh Shoen is a writer and teacher in Boston, MA. Her stories have appeared in X-R-A-Y, Milk Candy Review, [100 word story], and elsewhere. She holds a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Emerson College. Her tweets can be found at @Whowantssoup.

TOM SNETHEN: Art Critic

Amusing, Submissions, , ,

The artist sold portraits from a sidewalk display.

“How much for this piece?” asked the matron from the Cadillac.

“$25,” the artist said.

“I’ll take it.”

She leaned the canvas against her car while she fumbled for her credit card. Her dog Ruffles sniffed the painting and cocked his leg.

Tom Snethen writes about the humorous saints and scoundrels he worked among during a career as a manufacturing chemist. His stories range from throwing a flaming mattress out of a working brothel’s window to borrowing a bank robber with needed skills from the penitentiary.

JESS DUBOIS: The errant muse returns but briefly

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

A creative thought flashed through my brain. I dashed up the stairs two at a time, pushed open the office door.

Furniture, hidden beneath mountains of miscellaneous debris and detritus.

I gaped.

A recollection weeviled into my mind.

Gone.

The fog enveloped me again, and I turned and stumbled downstairs.

Jess Dubois, a retiree living near the coast in Kent, has just started writing flash fiction. When not writing she enjoys juggling all the writing, painting, and baking in her life.

VICTOR C KREUITER: Happenstance

Submissions, Touching, ,

Was it happenstance that they met and fell in love, courted, married and raised two lovely daughters, worked hard and saved, traveled sometimes in the summer, retired into a lovely little bungalow, doted on their grandchildren, grew ill and then died two days apart, both in their eighties? That’s happenstance?

Victor Kreuiter writes all the time and always has. He has been published in Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine, Sou’wester, and Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine (not yet in print).

NIKITZ LINIVENKO: The Life and Opinions of Fuehrer Jones, Esq.

Artistic, Submissions, ,

Great-gramps was a knight of sorts. I used to fetch his lighter fluid while he told me stories about Wizards and Cyclopses.

When he was still fit, he hiked to Ruby Ridge.

By the time he dropped dead, I didn’t need to ask why Robert Shelton was at his funeral.

Nikita Linivenko has been published once on 101words.org and regularly on blog.reedsy.com.

JANA VON FELLENBERG: Sticky Air

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

Night train to London. Just me and you. Is there an us? I don’t know anymore.

I gave you another chance, the fourth time. I have been counting.

You are sleeping. You look so innocent when you sleep.

Next station. Cambridge. Grabbing my stuff and leaving the train. Leaving you.

Jana von Fellenberg loves to drink iced tea while writing essays.

MARIA: Despite

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

Despite
rough sea stone
and the smell of salt,
deep
deep
breaths,
sips of water,
forced smiles,
looking pointedly elsewhere,
globes of brilliant glass
flowing from palm to palm,
folded fingers
twining fingers
hard fisted fingers,
stretch and twist and bruise;
despite all these dodges
distractions, defenses–
I still cried.

Maria particularly dislikes when her regular coping mechanisms fail, and leave her floundering. She’s having a much better day now.