The story of the week for September 16 to 20 is…
Immortal Moments by Seth Pilevsky
MANDIRA PATTNAIK: Like Raindrops, Faces
Columns of raindrops
trailing from the parapet
They skip
and dance
into oblivion
Like faces in the crowd.
I scan
the busy sidewalk
For that one face
Him
Who meant the world
I’ve lost forever
My
Chronicler of pain
Exultations, ecstasy
Melted to the soil.
Faces stare back
Hollow, disconcerted.
Mandira Pattnaik writes in India. Her work has appeared in The Times of India, Editor’s Pick Juggernaut Publishing, Microfiction Monday, Paragraph Planet, FewerThan500 and (Mac) ro (mic).
RON. LAVALETTE: Not the Warmest Greeting
He was quite sure they’d met before. Her smile, though noncommittal, seemed at least familiar, and somewhat welcoming.
It faded, though, as he approached her and sat down beside her on the subway.
He knew that he’d mistaken her as soon as she pressed the button on the Mace canister.
Ron. Lavalette has been widely published in both print and pixel forms. His first chapbook, Fallen Away, is now available from Finishing Line Press, and a reasonable sample of his work can be found at Eggs Over Tokyo.
JO WITHERS: Emergency Procedures
In the event of:
1. Flood – Assemble food and first aid kit. Be ready to evacuate.
2. Fire – Leave immediately. Once out, call emergency services.
3. Earthquake – Stay indoors. Prepare for cracks to appear in foundations. Do not involve passers-by. Subsidence is inevitable.
4. Marriage – Follow procedure in step 3.
Jo Withers writes micros, flash, and poetry from her home in South Australia. Recent work has appeared in Molotov Cocktail, Ellipsis Zine, Flashback Fiction, Spelk, 24 Unread Messages, and Mythic Picnic.
SETH PILEVSKY: Immortal Moments
“Daddy loves you,” I say, placing my daughter in her crib with a fresh diaper.
I notice the crease in each elbow as she shakes her toy at me and laughs.
I linger.
If I don’t survive the surgery tomorrow, I pray that I can take this memory with me.
Seth Pilevsky lives in New York with his wife and five kids, trying to tuck away those precious moments for a rainy day. His work has been published in the Long Island Literary Journal, Literally Stories, Memoir Magazine, Stinkwave’s Magazine and in the YA anthology What Doesn’t Kill You. Sign up for blog updates at spilevsky.com.
ROB SPIELMAN: First Cause
Tell me a story with a happy ending.
That genderless AI voice bounced through the sterile capsule, the low gravity seeming to slow the pronunciation.
“I can’t, Sam.”
Did God create the virus?
“No.”
Did I?
“Yes, Sam.”
Through the port window of the capsule, the lights on Earth faded.
Rob Spielman’s short stories and poetry have previously been published in The Blue Earth Review, Allergory, Pif Magazine, and other journals. He has an MFA from Concordia University and currently makes a living as a writing consultant while living in Minneapolis with his wife and two children.
CONNELL WAYNE REGNER: Modern Dating
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Everything was fine and then nothing, no calls, no messages. She’s ghosted me.”
“You must have done something to upset her.”
“Well, she didn’t like me driving fast.”
“That must be it.”
“Anyway, I’m going out.” Then he walked through the walls to the street.
Connell still writes a bit from time to time.
BEN TOOVEY: What a way to make a living
Dolly squinted up, stolen from her busy holopad by the boisterous burst of blue-hued starlight. Her pupils adjusted. She caught her breath.
“Oh!”
Her Comet-class space train, cantering along the networked velocity gates, weaved a shimmering silver thread through the dense asteroid cloud.
“…I’ll need celery for soup,” she remembered.
Ben Toovey is a Brit living in Germany, and a keen procrastinator.
SUSAN GALE WICKES: Framed
Margo used to wonder about her friend Ellen’s strange requests.
“Would you mind picking up some industrial-sized trash bags?”
“Can I borrow your duct tape?”
“Wanna hold my new pistol?”
“Just take my phone.”
Now, sitting here in prison, it all made perfect sense.
Ellen wasn’t her friend after all.
Susan Gale Wickes is a writer from Indiana. She claims nobody was harmed in the writing of this story.
ROBIN ANDERSON: Power Down
Tonight I write by candlelight. A scheduled outage, they said. No light, no heat, no electronic hum, but in the shadows story pours from my pen. Stream of consciousness, words flow like water or wine or my own blood.
Now I know I should have contrived a blackout long ago.
Robin writes in the odd corners of the day and night and often about birds. See more at thenightmail.com.