I wake up.
I don’t know where I am.
My house on Grant?
No, the retirement home.
I wake up.
I don’t know where I am.
Again.
I figure it out.
Again.
And then one day,
I wake up, and I don’t realize that I don’t know
where I am.
Harry Demarest hopes to live long enough to end up in a retirement home.
To discourage temptations to divide and sell,
to encourage harmony and family gatherings, Baba and Papa
left the lakehouse property to just one
of their many children.
Granddaughter Mara called from the lake.
Our beloved grass-barren badminton court
is now a wildflower garden.
Squeals and laughter silenced for a generation.
When he finally started to listen, Matthew’s heart led him to Maine. Now, he lives and writes next to a lake, and sometimes Googles synonyms for the word “regret.”
The smoke alarm goes off seconds before the doorbell, but the oven can wait.
Smoke billows behind you while she beams before you. “I brought wi—oh, wow.”
You sigh at the blackened promise of ‘simple and easy’ romantic dinner, but she leans against you, as natural as breathing. “Pizza?”
Rebecca Ruvinsky is a student and emerging writer in Florida. Found at @writeruvinsky, she has work forthcoming in Underland Arcana and Prospectus. In her free time, she writes daily poems and goes to rocket launches.
When the GPS said that I had arrived at my destination, I found myself parked in front of an abandoned country church on a dead end, gravel road. Most of the paint had long peeled away, and the graveyard beside it was full.
I wondered who buried the last member.
Eddie D. Moore travels hundreds of hours a year, and he fills that time by listening to audiobooks. When he isn’t playing with his grandchildren, he writes his own stories. You can find a list of his publications on his blog, eddiedmoore.wordpress.com, or by visiting his Amazon Author Page. While you’re there, be sure to pick up a copy of his mini-anthology Misfits & Oddities.
The story of the week for October 5 to 9 is…
Every Tuesday by Lisa Marie Lopez
Momma hasn’t come home.
I ask Grandma, When? She says, Any day now.
But Momma sent a text I wasn’t supposed to see. Need break. It’s all too much.
The sun cuts the leaves into drops of time. I spin in the driveway, singing:
Any day any day any day.
L.L. Wohlwend’s work has appeared in Haibun Today, Contemporary Haibun Online, Modern Haiku, and other places.
“Why do you bleat like a goat?” I ask. “Do those sounds comfort you?”
“Yes, I believe they do,” he responds.
A month later, once again, “Why?”
“They help me to focus and think.”
Three more months, and he barely understands the question.
“They remind me that I’m still alive.”
Mary Hickey is an internationally known backgammon champion, teacher, coach and author. Her literary fiction has appeared in The Griffin, Happy, Kalliope, and other publications. She takes a break from writing if sushi, mattar paneer, or really good coffee are on offer.
The roofs appear first, small grey peaks breaking through the water as the drought slowly reveals the village last seen seventy years ago.
After the forced clearance of the villagers, the valley was flooded, the reservoir built.
We descend, excited explorers discovering cobbled roads, abandoned cottages. A shotgun. Bleached bones.
Brian Maycock lives in Scotland. His short stories have most recently been published in The Drabble and 365 tomorrows.
Tangy salsa over fried eggs. Buttered toast, sliced in half and glazed with apricot jam. She hasn’t opened a menu in over ten years. Everybody at the corner diner on Hamilton Street knows to call her Suz, and never to ask why certain songs from the jukebox make her cry.
Lisa Marie Lopez has had stories recently published in Blink-Ink and The Ocotillo Review. She loves baseball, turtles, and writing in cozy little cafes. Visit her on Facebook at Author Lisa Marie Lopez.
A top propagandist and Politburo member in the party, the younger sister now controls the Guidance and Organization Department, aka G.O.D., the body administering ideological indoctrination, party organization and political appointments.
Through edicts issued by G.O.D., a woman has unprecedented control of the future.
At last, there’s hope for mankind.
James Menges is a writer and photographer. He is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America.