MELANIE WINKLOSKY: Swimming

Artistic, Submissions, Top Stories, , ,

I thought I could learn to love running. Sidewalks, trails, beaches – relentless pounding felt like punishment.

Instead, I swim. Tepid pools, bracing Atlantic – calming water lifts me, holds me.

I dive deep, submerged in silence. Graceful. Weightless. Playful.

Released for a time from gravity.

Reminded for a time of connection.

Melanie Winklosky is a fiction writer trapped in a grant writer’s body. She lives in Swampscott, Massachusetts with her husband and dog, in what those who don’t understand call her “empty nest,” cheering on her children as they chase their dreams.

RITA RIEBEL MITCHELL: My Sister’s Warning

Adventure, Submissions, , ,

I sneaked into Sybil’s room. She said I was in danger.

Our foster mother, Janie, said it was my imagination. “You’re crazy,” she said. “Sybil’s not talking to anybody.”

“Wasn’t us that killed her,” said Janie’s husband.

“Did her own self in,” said Janie. “She’s dead.”

They’re lying, Sybil whispered.

Rita Riebel Mitchell writes in the Pinelands of South Jersey. Her work appears in Flash Fiction Magazine, Versification, Black Hare Press, 101 Words, and others. Find her at FridayMicro.com.

MIRIAM STEIN: One Girl’s Secret

Artistic, Submissions, , , , ,

She knew her parents wouldn’t approve,
Of her lover
With a different religion and culture
From a faraway country
Studying at a nearby university, close to hers
She lied she’d be at the library
And spent hours with him
So she never told her parents,
Even when he left her.

Miriam Stein is a social worker, advocacy consultant, and author of Make Your Voice Matter With Lawmakers: No Experience Necessary. Her writings have appeared in local and national publications, including 50wordstories.com. See more at makeyourvoicematter.com.

RICHARD A SHURY: Longinus

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

Darkness swells around me, smothering time. My eyes know no light. My ears see the trickle of water through stone. For sweet short moments I am left alone.

It’s time. The soft pad of the beast, his gentle breath against my skin. The short, sweet moment before he begins again.

Richard A. Shury wrote this story.

RS NELSON: Like Father, Like Son

Artistic, Submissions, , , , , ,

The boy applies the self-adhesive mustache. His mother holds back tears, registering the striking resemblance with his father. Someday, he might also fight in a foreign war, and his broken body might return to his wife and son.

“Do you like it, Mom?”

She smiles, caressing the rough, artificial fibers.

R.S. Nelson (she/her) is a Latina writer who lives and finds inspiration in Southern California. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Flash Fiction Magazine, Every Writer, SciFiSat, Every Day Fiction, Twin Bird Review, and elsewhere.

HARMONY MOONEY: The Cost of the Bargain

Adventure, Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

I haunt my old house these days. Last night, as bats flitted through looking for a way out, I went to check my reflection in my entryway mirror for the first time since I made the bargain. No one was looking back at me. I asked the bats to stay.

Harmony Mooney is a teacher and writer living on the North Coast of California with her husband, two cats, and two dogs.

S JANAKI: My Other Boyfriend is a Mango

Amusing, Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

He was charming, golden, and soft around the edges. Said he was seasonal but didn’t mention how short that season was. I kept the pit after he left. Planted it in winter, but nothing grew. Sometimes I check the dirt anyway, just in case he changes his mind about permanence.

S. Janaki is a writer and college student based in the Midwest. She likes updating her Goodreads, long walks, and the way Adrienne Lenker writes about futures that never happened.

A GUHA DEB: Zealot

Artistic, Submissions, , , , ,

I don’t really pray. You couldn’t offend my god because I have never had one.

But now, I see it dying, to a thousand cheers, and likes and shares, and my rage feels almost devout, my wrath, suspiciously religious.

Art is the prayer we offer at the altar of humanity.

A. Guha Deb is a writer, a student and a chronic procrastinator who writes best on an approaching unrelated deadline. He is currently juggling a dozen hobbies along with the tiny problem of figuring his life out.

ALEXA YASMIN FERRER: Dishwasher

Artistic, Submissions, Top Stories, , , , , , ,

All of her friends are engaged to men with insurance and stock portfolios. You’re next! they demand.

Alone, in places that are clean and beautiful, she outlines the novel she’d like to write. She looks at her chipped nails and the drafts in her notes. She just wants a dishwasher.

Alexa is intense, takes things personally, has never gotten over anything, and is editor of The Miami Native.