MEGAN GIM: One Day at a Time

Submissions, Touching, , ,

The credit card declines again. I tell the cashier I’ve left the other card at home.

Walk back without the groceries, holding Evie’s hand, wondering whether she’ll be happy with spaghetti again.

I gently rub the ring on my middle finger. I’ll take it tomorrow. Should buy us some time.

Megan Gim works as a speech pathologist but is currently on maternity leave with two young boys at home. She recently completed a short course through the Australian Writers’ Centre for writing middle grade fiction, which has reignited a passion for writing, and is writing flash fiction and microfiction to help develop her writing skills.

JOHN YOUNG: As If…

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

“I’m really, truly sorry,” Blake said, gesturing and screwing up his eyes, as if in pain, as if to show the depth of his regret.

Quite good acting, Ann thought.

“You do believe me?” he asked earnestly.

Smiling, she turned and walked away. As if I could be so stupid.

John Young is an old chap grappling with themes of limits, longings, and finitude. He likes spooky stuff and lives in St Andrews, Scotland, an ancient town with an ancient university, home of golf, and home also – allegedly – of many ghosts. (He has not met any yet.)

GARY THOMSON: Apprentice

Adventure, Submissions, , ,

Emma works her knife over the jack-o’-lantern’s flesh, tapers the leering, accusatory mouth, widens empty eyes. Her stepmother’s features, just so.

She draws the gleaming blade between unhearing ears.

A centred candle bursts into flame.

“Proof of the destructive power,” Master Carver has forewarned.

Soon father will be hers alone.

Gary Thomson resides in Ontario, where he enjoys country drives through fiery autumn colours and strolling amongst early pioneer cemeteries. None of his published work matches the poignancy of mossy inscriptions on weathered grave markers.

MARC LITTMAN: Ghost of Halloween

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

The flickering jack-o’-lanterns stand sentry on my porch, but I’ve turned off my light lest any young tricksters trespass. Still, I left some treats in a plastic goblin’s palm with a sign saying “Pick one if you dare.” Sadly, I doubt any will dare tempt the viral Ghost of Halloween.

Marc Littman’s flash fiction has been published in many online magazines and anthologies from 50-Word Stories to The Saturday Evening Post. He also writes plays and novels.

RODRIGO ORTIZ VINHOLO: Ammunition

Adventure, Amusing, Submissions, , , ,

We didn’t have enough bullets for everyone, so we had to draw lots. I lost. Typical.

“You should be glad,” they said. “You’ll get to live longer. In a way, we are the losers, right?”

Joke’s on them: I’ll eat their faces as soon as I turn into a zombie.

Rodrigo Ortiz Vinholo is a Brazilian fiction writer based in São Paulo. His short fiction work has been featured in over a hundred collections in Brazilian Portuguese, exploring a wide variety of genres. His latest books are ‘Sinônimo de Rancor’ (2018, self-published), ‘Os Dias em que Rubia Viveu no Futuro’ (2019, Lendari), ’33’ (2020, Casa Literária) and ‘Poemas Chatos para Pessoas Ruins’ (2020, Darda Editora). See more at rodrigoortizvinholo.com.br (in Brazilian portuguese)

ROBERT MARKOVICH: The Empty Booth

Artistic, Submissions, Touching, , , , ,

Nearly every old strip-mall parking lot has one, a brick-and-glass memorial to when some kid inside handed you your finished Kodachromes.

Where did all those Kodachromes go? To dusty drawers and landfills. And the kid? To ‘Nam, where he stayed as his parents grew old wondering why they let him.

Robert Markovich spent a lifetime in what is charitably referred to as service journalism, writing and editing stories about everything from cars to toilets, most recently at Consumer Reports. He is happily and gratefully retired.

JR WALSH: Refer your friends

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

We weren’t in the evacuation zone, but we drove to the shelter.

We’re petting mangy dogs and seeing the guns. Breathing in people sprawled on Army blankets.

Dodging spinning children in line to pee. Signing up everyone for Amazon Prime. Five bucks per referral.

We’ll upgrade our bathrooms with bidets.

JR Walsh writes in landlocked Idaho, but itsjrwalsh.com floats everywhere.

MARIA CARGILLE: Stress Turned My Soul to Copper and Steam

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

Anxiety forces another beam of steel through my belly,
apprehension caps my lungs,
and tangles them in wire.

Electricity jolts my chest
yanking a mechanical heart to life.

Oil slicks my throat
choking me into silence.

Perhaps terror stole my voicebox
too
and only the gears in my brain
scream.

Maria copes with stress by listening to Steam Powered Giraffe, and writing strange poetry.

JOHN YOUNG: Humans!

Adventure, Submissions, , , ,

Humans, givers of food, thought the large dog, bounding to the man sitting against a wall. Since the time of the great light, the wind and fires, it had eaten little.

But the human had no food and was very weak.

Humans are food! thought the dog, trotting contentedly away.

John Young is an old chap grappling with themes of limits, longings, and finitude. He lives in St Andrews, Scotland, an ancient town with an ancient university, home of golf, home also – allegedly – of many ghosts. (He has not met any yet.)