With the kind of longing that only comes with the fog of time, he began missing her today.
All the animosity gave way to bittersweet memories.
That’s when he realized that it had been neither love nor hate that killed their relationship. It was indifference.
He eyed his phone, briefly.
Maninder Chana is a critically acclaimed, award-winning writer and director based out of Toronto. He is also the author of a short story collection, Gunga Din Lite & Other Delights (of Lust and Comedy).
It begins early evening, lasts twelve hours
Resolute, incessant, deliberate
Weighing down the coloured canopy still clinging to the branches
Seeping its way into covered porches, rusting brake drums, and the joints of old men
Cold, wet, relentless
I pull the quilt over my head, for just ten minutes more
Paul Hock wrote this story.
Millicent finished a bowl of hot soup and left the church cafeteria. She didn’t complain as she limped slowly toward the park. She knew she was luckier than others.
In the tunnel, she wrapped her blanket more tightly around her shoulders and gave thanks before drifting off to dreamless sleep.
Candace Kubinec wrote this story.
My memory’s broken, I’ve concluded. Storytellers return vividly to their pasts. I only remember remembering, the images grainier with each mental photocopy.
“Daddy!” the girl screams, nose crusted. She tugs my leg and flaps her arms.
I frantically shuffle though reams of fading prints. The ink smudges before it dries.
Andrew Dunn is a journalist and writer in Charlotte, N.C.
The story of the week for October 30 to November 3 is…
Compulsive Behavior by Alex Markovich
“I can do this,” Hannah said in a voice so small it was barely audible.
“I can do this.” A bit more convincing the second time, but not much. How could anyone handle this?
Hannah repeated the words (this time with conviction), opened her eyes, and threw off the blanket.
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.
Dreams and reality sometimes ravel and blur in the longest hours of the night. That’s when I reach out and touch your arm, your back, your thigh, lightly, ever so lightly, so I don’t wake you. We’ve grown old and frail together, you and I. Now, constantly, we seek reassurance.
Alex lives in a suburb of the Big Apple.
She should have paid attention to the warning signs, but single men were scarce.
When he said his name was Count Christoph in a drawling European accent,
she thought he was being eccentric.
He didn’t smile much so she hadn’t noticed his dentistry.
In hindsight, she really should’ve swiped left.
Jo Withers writes stories and poetry for children and older, less interesting humans. Her middle-grade, sci-fi adventure will be published in 2018.
You put me on the cake and light my wick. I want to make you happy.
But then you huff and puff to extinguish my flame. I cannot grant your wishes this way.
Then you relight me because someone else “wants a go”.
Fine, I shall now purge this party.
Joey is not a fan of birthday cakes, with or without the candles. You can visit him at joeytoey.com.
They met on Tinder and their relationship blossomed on Snapchat and Instagram. But when she watched a concert he live streamed on YouTube, she saw him kissing her BFF.
OMG!
She unfriended them and blocked their Twitter feed.
But Facebook is still recommending them as friends. What’s App with that?
Damhnait Monaghan is a Canadian now living in the UK. Her stories, real and imagined, can be found in Understorey Magazine, The Fiction Pool, Spelk Fiction and Flash Frontiers. She’s on Twitter @downith.