PATRICK MC LOUGHLIN: 6:35 A.M. October 5th 2018

Artistic, Poetry, Submissions, Top Stories, ,

A half cup of coffee on the top of the car. Another morning beginning beyond the yard, the hearts, and the heads of most practical men.

A half cig smoked waiting for the head to start. Another drive waiting. The familiar future. That gentle wind that pushes us forever forward.

Patrick Mc Loughlin is an English Language Teacher in Ireland and dabbles in writing. He also dabbles in painting and music and someday hopes to do more than dabble. He lives in the west of Ireland, where it’s hard to concentrate.

MICHAEL BORNE: Here Be Dragons

Amusing, Submissions, , , ,

The first day that I drove my new son and his exhausted mom home from the hospital, the freeway was thick with fast cars maneuvering around mega pick-ups with large tires and 40-ton semis, all in a mad dash to get somewhere.

How will I ever protect him?

Michael Borne lives in Texas, where large pick-up trucks seem to proliferate.

MICHAEL A YARRANTON: Summer Lovin’

Artistic, Submissions, , , , , ,

Fields of vivid yellow; enthusiastic sunflowers tell me stories of love, life, and laughter as I lay amongst them.
Imposing, tall, stretching, kissing the sun.
I rearrange them in their vases. Together we look out the kitchen window, sighing.

They’re wilting now, but I count the days ’til next year.

Michael is currently writing bios for up-and-coming artists in the U.K.

VIJAI PANT: The Election Meeting

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

“Hunger has been banished,” he thundered.

The crowd roared. Kalawati, too, feebly cheered.

They had been ferried in a truck to the election meeting. Meeting over, she clutched the 500 rupee note which she had been promised and hurried home. She didn’t want to lose one more child to starvation.

Vijai Pant is a teacher in a school in India. In his free time he lets his creative juices flow as a freelance writer and poet.

CANDACE KUBINEC: In Contemplation of Retirement

Amusing, Submissions, , , ,

He thought about retiring.

He took a leave-of-absence, headed south, got a job driving kids to summer camp. He’d always liked kids.

These kids laughed at his belly, threw things into his beard.

He couldn’t wait to get home where kids were just names on lists—naughty or nice.

Candace Kubinec posts her stories at storydribbles.wordpress.com and her poetry at rhymeswithbug.com.

JO WITHERS: Bourbon

Submissions, Touching, , ,

A river runs close by.

Sometimes, we go together. I paddle at the edges while you swim deftly forward. You covet its spiralling depths, embracing the undulating void as you leave the land behind.

You emerge dripping, almost drowned, but re-submerge before you’re dry.

My heart sinks as you plummet.

Jo Withers writes poetry and short stories from her home in South Australia. You can follow Jo on Twitter.

JOAN SKURA: Noise

Amusing, Submissions, , ,

Too noisy, I say, but he cannot hear
Above the din of drill and saw

Again I try: Too noisy, neighbour,
as backhoe rips the ground to shreds

But he only stares, hands on hips
as his home reshapes before his eyes

I’m left to wonder: can he read lips?

Joan Skura writes from Toronto, Canada, where she lives with her husband, Ron, and their finicky feline, Lola.

ISAIAH SMITH: Line Your Pockets

Adventure, Submissions, , ,

I was paid in old change. Ancient change. Gold drachmas engraved with ancient marks, no two alike.

Rubbing the coins between my fingers, the flakes of red stained my soft flesh. The stink of copper held fast as I washed away what I hoped was paint.

I can’t quit anymore.

Isaiah grew up in California and has been looking for any reason to become anything but a writer for as long as he can remember. Writing won’t pay the bills, but it sure is fun. He wishes he could name this story “Blood Money,” but his love of horror and puns probably shouldn’t mix.

TAYLOR BOUCHER: Sugar

Amusing, Submissions, , , ,

Covered in powdered sugar and melted chocolate, my beautiful blond roommate, who had never before set foot in our kitchen, looked up from her painstakingly crafted graham cracker crust in horror.

“Oh my God,” she said. “I just remembered. His mom’s a diabetic.”

I laughed. She managed not to cry.

Taylor Boucher is a writer of creative nonfiction and occasional fiction, when she realizes her exaggeration has gotten out of control. Her claims to fame are surviving being hit by a bus and meeting JoJo in a restaurant bathroom in 2007. In her spare time, she enjoys long conversations with her deaf dog.