The story of the week for April 1 to 5 is…
Fifty-Word Story by Richard Day Gore
SUZANNE REYNOLDS-ALPERT: Fruits of Our Labor
The breeding program has gone spectacularly. The few ultra-intelligent humans created technologies that moved the entire species forward. Lifespans were expanded; machines and medicines allowed the rest to become lazy, compliant, and complacent. Their minds softened along with their bodies.
They will be easy to harvest, just as we planned.
Suzanne Reynolds-Alpert writes science fiction, horror, dark fantasy, and the occasional poem. Her short fiction has appeared in the anthologies The Final Summons, Killing It Softly (Vol.1), and The Deep Dark Woods. Read her poetry in the anthology Wicked Witches, the websites Tales of the Zombie War and Eternal Haunted Summer, and in The Wayfarer: A Journal of Contemplative Literature. Suzanne is a freelance content creation expert and editor who writes in between meeting the incessant demands of her feline overlords. Find her on Facebook or follow her on Twitter @SuzsMuses.
RICHARD DAY GORE: Fifty-Word Story
Fifty words.
It’s all we have.
Alan took himself from us, so young, when she still had hundreds.
Saturday she couldn’t remember that the bedroom—that dusty shrine—was once his.
Yesterday, his name dropped away.
Soon she’ll gaze at me and see a stranger. We’ll be down to forty-nine.
After chasing his muse from Virginia to Manhattan, Richard Day Gore settled in Southern California, where he spends his time pushing around words, paint brushes, and guitar strings.
JEAN BLASIAR: Mad
The biographer asked, “When did you realize that you were mad, Mrs. Hudson?”
Sally Hudson’s manacled feet prevented her from moving. She looked up at the small barred window above her head. “They told me,” she responded.
“Who were ‘they’?”
“The kids in school. Mad as a hatter,” they said.
Jean Blasiar is a published author (Charles River Press), playwright (Off The Wall Plays), short story writer and theatrical producer. One of Jean’s plays was optioned by 20th Century Fox for a pilot.
JENNI COOK: The Sketch
A cherub-faced, golden-haired toddler grins at me from a faded poster. Cute kid, but it’s the age progression sketch beneath the photo that stops me cold.
I study my reflection in the post office window and my stomach knots.
Looks like my “mom” owes me one heck of an explanation.
Jenni Cook spends her days in the courtroom as a corporate litigation attorney and her nights in front of the computer, making up stories. She is the author of several short stories, and is currently working on the first novel in a series called The Millicent Chronicles, about a centuries-old witch whose unique method of conflict resolution plays a role in history and present-day events. When she’s not writing or litigating, she enjoys acting, painting upholstered furniture, and rooting for her nephew’s college baseball team (#goscotsgo). Jenni lives in Northwest Arkansas with her Australian Shepherd, Jasper, whose antics are the source of much entertainment.
TIM BOITEAU: Lockbox
I turn off the news, hands shaking.
Park two doors down, then shoulder through a chaos of cordons and police and media imps to reach home.
Place is in shambles, ransacked by people wearing disposable shoe covers.
Master closet door’s ajar—Swallow fire—the lockbox cracked open—Breathe ash—empty.
Tim Boiteau writes and lives near Detroit with his wife and son.
GRETCHEN IVERS: Get Back in Your Box. You’re Making Me Think.
How Dare You humanize yourself?
How Dare You leave your assigned statistic?
How Dare You plead for the rights I forget I have?
How Dare You be more than a job-stealing terrorist?
How Dare You challenge every single assumption I’ve built?
Oh yes.
They were right.
You are very dangerous.
Gretchen is a university student grappling with understanding the breadth of hurt in the world.
CHIP HOUSER: Beetle in Her Pocket
“I’m going to be an entomologist,” Isabelle says. Her dress doesn’t have a pocket, or she’d have brought one of her pets. Her hands feel empty.
“Sounds great, sweetheart,” her mother says, arranging her hair on her shoulders and ushering her toward the stage. “This time, smile for the judges.”
For a year or so we lived in Boulder. One day by chance we drove by Jonbenet Ramsey’s house. It still haunts me.
PRISHA MEHTA: Recorder
Her recorder, smaller than she remembers it, now covered with a decade’s worth of dirt.
She wipes off the mouth, lifts it to her lips. A sighing sound burdens the breeze as her breath stumbles through.
Somehow her fingers find the holes with ease and tap out a hollow melody.
Prisha is a high school student who aspires to be a successful author one day. You can find out more about her at prishamehta.com.
JEREMY C NORTH: Wishing on Starships
Maisy watches with awe as rockets launch in the distance. They rise majestically into the atmosphere, leaving behind trails like shooting stars. The girl makes but one wish: for these mysterious, departing spaceships to revisit our planet soon.
Hours later, continents away, the nuclear missiles begin their return to Earth.
Jeremy C. North is a Melbournian writer of horror, sci-fi, and tragedy. You can catch him in the act at guyawks.tumblr.com.