The story of the week for August 10 to 14 is…
The Lion and the Lamb by Linda Vigen Phillips
MICHELLE WILSON: Active Imagination
I think my neighbor’s a psychopath with his vacant, roving eyes. Amazon keeps leaving his packages at my door: wood planks, duct tape, a chainsaw. And then: doghouse instructions.
I call him over, laughing. (I’ve always had an active imagination.)
As he steps inside, I see the leash.
“All alone?”
Michelle Wilson graduated from Bennington College with a degree in literature and creative writing. Her words have appeared or are forthcoming in 101 Words, Literally Stories, Flash Fiction Magazine, Lost Magazine, Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood, Healthcare in America, and The Miami Herald. She lives in Miami Beach, Florida.
ERHARD FIRN: Loyalty
The first betrayal crawled into my chest, compressed my heart and lungs. It quickly grew its branchlike arms up to my throat, aiming for strangulation. A bottle of whiskey, an old record, and twenty-one days diluted its power. The second betrayal is unable to pierce the shell of misery.
Erhard Firn appreciates loyalty.
VIVIAN LEUNG: When Night Falls
Sitting on the grassy hill,
the day goes by slow.
Then night falls.
I reached for stars in the sky,
wanting troubles to
end and die.
Only at night can the soul
and body and mind
take a rest.
So, I pray that in its splendor,
the night is long.
Vivian Leung lives in Scottsdale, Arizona and has always held a love for music and writing. One of her goals in life is to land a career in healthcare. There are few things that are more rewarding to her than helping others.
JACKIE HEWITT: Matzo Balls Over Miami Beach
When they first changed my diapers
I was cutting my baby teeth on Sinatra’s Miami Beach;
Mafia protection was part of the local landscape.
Fast forward; Miami Beach has risen from its own ashes four times,
I am into my second bout of diaper changes,
The Beach, its fifth resurrection.
Jackie’s sense of irony remains her survival tool in today’s colorful, but confounding world.
JAMES MENGES: Sunday Scrum
It was a weekly family competition. My siblings interlocked and huddled over the table like a championship rugby scrum. Instead of a ball, a plate of Mom’s fried chicken was slipped onto the table beneath the players.
Dad blew a whistle. Game on.
Whoever ate the fastest got the most.
James Menges is a writer and photographer. He is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
ALYSSA MINAKER: Clicks
Click, I post a picture of my dog.
Click, click, people like her fluffy fur.
How many did I get? Click, 23 likes.
I post another photo of her, but now with sad, droopy eyes.
Clickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclick
104 likes.
Be more sad, I tell her.
They like you more that way.
Follow Alyssa Minaker on Instagram to give her more clicks.
ESZTER MOLNAR: Again
I hurried to the restaurant, my heart full of hope.
Will she smile at me today? I wondered. Ask me how my day was? Comment on my haircut?
She was sitting in the corner, reading. She didn’t look at me.
“You’re late,” she said as she turned a page. “Again.”
Eszter Molnar is a former teacher who lives by the windswept British seaside with her partner and two children. She has been published in one of the UK’s biggest subscription magazines for children. By day, she cleans up after preschoolers, by night she writes picture books and Middle Grade fiction.
PETER GASKELL: Stitched Up
For her skilful embroidery work, the refugee camp charity gave her money to support her sisters still in Syria.
Her most beautiful dress yet, this one Yara imagined wearing after she reached Europe.
The man promising her safe sea passage smiled as he folded her battered banknote into his pocket.
Since he was published in the Atlanta Review and his short screenplay ‘Pigs in Muck’ featured in the Lockdown Monologue Film Festival recently, Peter Gaskell is currently aiming to show how he values economy of language and so has taken to writing haiku and flash fiction where every word must be used to maximum effect
RJ KINNARNEY: Empty Vessels
Sarah lowers the wine bottle into the recycling bin and places it onto the stack below. It doesn’t make a sound. She’s practised at this. At silence.
In the living room, the laptop sits open at the grocery page. It suggests Pampers. She adds wine and tampons to her order.
R. J. Kinnarney’s short story, The Blue Bowl, was runner-up in the Daunt Books short story competition. They have been longlisted in Retreat West flash fiction competitions. Their work has been published in The Write In and 100 Words of Solitude. They are currently working on a novel, which looks at attitudes to war, together with changing methods and speed of communication.