The story of the week for November 5 to 9 is…
Dizzy Spells by Bob Thurber
ISAIAH SMITH: Beholden to True Beauty
Growing up, I looked up to my dad more than anything. So when he said my mom was a goddess in every sense, I was perplexed. She was… matronly. Crow’s feet and freckles.
As I grew older, it never dawned on me.
Until I met a goddess in every sense.
Isaiah Smith has lived in a lot of places, but his favourites are where he’s among friends. Before he was a writer, Isaiah didn’t have a purpose outside of pleasing his friends and family. He wears a two-piece suit while he writes. It’s just business.
TERESA DEL MASTRO: Face Paint
During the film festival, Jeanie stopped at a cosmetics booth. A computer monitor displayed her lonely, seventy-year-old widow’s face.
She touched a button. A younger image materialized. The computer had painted her face: eyeliner, lashes, lips.
Jeanie sent the photo to a seniors’ dating site. This would be the year.
Teresa Del Mastro lives on the Danforth in Toronto with Angelo, Michael, Rachel and Willow.
ALEXANDRA KEISTER: Mind Your Peas and Social Cues
Maybe he’s the one.
Religion – check.
Education – check.
Humor – check.
Looks – check!
Here he comes.
Smile, fix your hair.
He’s sitting down.
Is he as nervous as I am?
Spaghetti for us both, please.
Slurp.
Gnash.
Chomp.
Harrumphumphmmmglurp.
He chews with his mouth open?
Abominable man!
Neanderthal.
Troglodyte.
Check – please.
Alexandra chomp always has mmmfglurp impeccable omnomnom table manners until there’s hothothotooohhhot food involved.
JOHN D PAYNE: Pythia
Priestess in my untidy temple, I wait alone upon my adorable Oracle.
She bestows her gifts freely, but not easily. Her words, strewn casually, discarded carelessly, I gather and scrutinize, turning them over in my mind, looking for truths, profound and ineffable.
“Do you know what an elephant says?”
“Neigh!”
John D. Payne grew up in the American Midwest, watching the lightning flash outside his window and imagining himself as everything from a leaf in the wind to the god of thunder. Today, he lives with his wife and family in the shadow of the Organ Mountains in New Mexico, where he imagines that with enough concentration he might be able to rustle up a little cloud cover for some shade. For updates, new fiction, and exclusive content, visit patreon.com/johndpayne.
BOB THURBER: Dizzy Spells
My father called from somewhere.
He needed to sign some important documents and he’d forgotten his name again.
I asked where he was, I asked where he’d been.
I asked if he was alright, if he was wearing shoes and clothes.
He said, Just spell my name for me, son.
Bob Thurber is the author of “Paperboy: A Dysfunctional Novel” and two collections of stories. A celebrated master of Flash and Micro Fiction, his work has appeared in 60 anthologies, received dozens of awards, and been used in schools and colleges throughout the world. He resides in Massachusetts where, though legally blind, he continues to write every day. Visit his website at BobThurber.net.
KIM HAWKINS: Metal Tickets
He found them everywhere. On concrete, after they’d tinked and whirled circuitously. Gleaming dully amidst weeds and moldering detritus. Plucked from jars and dishes, under and around the blinking fog lights of nametagged suspicion.
He took them to his hovel, until he’d saved enough to escape this godforsaken place forever.
Kim Hawkins is lucky to be a stay-at-home father. He loves literature, writing, playing guitar and singing, and collecting nutcrackers. Also hats. Go Cubs.
CANDACE KUBINEC: A Shared Harvest
The aged apple tree is barren as days become colder.
The sweet aroma of cider, from remaining windfall fruit, floats on a chilly breeze that ruffles through brittle leaves still clinging to gnarled branches.
I have gleaned all I can, leaving behind a harvest feast for deer who visit nightly.
Candace Kubinec posts her stories at storydribbles.wordpress.com and her poetry at rhymeswithbug.com.
RON. LAVALETTE: 14-Year-Old Pediatrician
I saved my little sister’s life.
She had a bad case
of deadly Arphidarfilus.
She sought a second opinion.
Mom was busy in the kitchen.
Dad was, as always, on the road.
I prescribed gumdrops.
(Gumdrops is the only cure.)
Half a century later
she says I’m still her hero.
Ron. Lavalette has been widely published in both print and pixel forms. His first chapbook is now available from Finishing Line Press, and a reasonable sample of his work can be found at EGGS OVER TOKYO.
ALYSSA MINAKER: Intimacy
Being us is coming home, slipping into PJs, and pressing soft, weary limbs together under grandma-made quilts and old sheets. It’s absence of words while my nose is tucked inside your neck. Then it’s singing “Hallelujah!” with our eyes because we’re home, together, in the tender place of being known.
Alyssa Minaker lives in Africa with her husband.