Ingredients
140 invitations
121 RSVPs
47 relatives, immediate or otherwise
1 cake (number of layers may vary)
3 bridesmaids
2 groomsmen
1 dress
1 pair of shoes
1 pair of cold feet
3 reassurances
2 vows
1 chance, not taken
1 decision
1 kiss
Directions
Combine ingredients, chill to serve.
Anna likes socks, notebooks, tea, and microfiction. She lives in Germany.
“Call it in the air, ma’am.”
“Tails,” said Spring, lounging by the pool.
The groundhog caught the coin. “It’s heads, ma’am.”
“Best of three?” Spring asked.
“No,” said Winter, “and absolutely no more favors.”
“Not even a little one?”
“I’ll be at the bar,” said the groundhog. “Let me know.”
Iain Young asserts that no groundhogs were harmed in the writing of this story.
With nowhere to hide, he stood exposed, naked to the world.
Looking up from where he came, he longed for what he had left behind. Unprepared for confrontation, the choice that led him to this time and place was inescapable.
Couldn’t she at least throw his pants out to him?
G. Allen Wilbanks is a member of the HWA and has published over 40 short stories in Deep Magic, Daily Science Fiction, The Talisman, and other venues. He has published two short story collections, and his first novel was released in October, 2017.
What do polka dots remind you of?
They remind Grandpa of the exploding rockets he hid from every night with his face in the mud from his own sweat and piss.
I swear it got inside his mind that night because now it’s cracking.
Alzheimer’s is God giving him morphine.
Brent C. Green is a free verse novelist and spoken word artist in Central Texas. He is the president of Modern Muse Poetry in San Marcos, Texas, and the blog editor for the Front Porch literary journal.
I sat at a picnic table in the woods, with my pen. I had hoped to honor you.
I would be masterful with my language, weave an imaginary tapestry. All would know of your glory,
had I succeeded. Instead,
I wrote this. My,
what a waste of such precious time.
James P. Spitznogle is an aspiring something from a mountainous somewhere.
The story of the week for January 15 to 19 is…
Promises by Zurina Saban
“You have me,” he said, the promise reflected in his eyes. She believed him.
That was a year ago. He’d lied.
Now she held her screaming newborn in her arms, breasts raw from another failed feeding. “Shhh,” she whispered near his little ear. “I’m here. I will always be here.”
Zurina Saban is a poet and author based in Johannesburg.
I remember what it was like to go to sleep and just luxuriate in it, swimming in the darkness of hours and hours.
Now you’re here, with your whimpers in the night and your chubby hands clutching me as you feed. You smell like warmth, and love has replaced sleep.
Victoria Davies is a freelance music teacher and writer from London, UK. She loves writing her thoughts and feelings about motherhood after the birth of her son in November 2016, an event more life-changing than she ever expected. You can read her blog at muminmakeup.wordpress.com.
She contemplated the fork. She’d seen the golden path a thousand times; the dark path, never before.
Ahead of her, the growl of a predator she didn’t know.
Behind her, the cry of a predator she did. “Baby, don’t be this way.”
She turned onto the dark path, and ran.
Claire Bartlett lives in Copenhagen, where she writes from her enchanted forest apartment.
Frank woke up in the early hours of the morning to a loud scraping sound from just outside his close little chamber. His eyes were open before he knew it, and he stretched his long limbs, throwing off the cover.
The grave robbers took one look at Frank and fled.
Philipp M. Selman is an artist, songwriter, athlete, and professional copywriter. His work has been published in Dark Fire Fiction and Fifty Word Stories, and examples of his art, music, and writing can be found at pmselman.com.