The story of the week for March 21 to 25 is…
The Diviner by Candace Kubinec
A clever way to indirectly tell the story of what sounds like a very unique relationship.
JAMES W DAVIDSON JR: Teaching Humility
Eagerly anticipating our exam grades, we were shocked when Mrs. Johnson entered the classroom with a shopping bag full of shredded paper.
She said, “Forget everything I’ve said up to this point about how it’s your responsibility to keep your work out of your dog’s reach.”
Thomas raised his hand.
James W. Davidson, Jr. majors in philosophy and English at Winthrop University in Rock Hill, SC.
CHRISTOPHER GONZALEZ: Mid-Flight
She claimed she needed the window seat—”It’s to prevent me from puking my guts out during turbulence, baby”—but I knew what she really wanted was to stare out into the wispy clouds, to hide from the reality that our relationship had been free falling for quite some time.
Christopher Gonzalez is a writer and graduate of Vassar College, where he won the 2015 Ann E. Imbrie Prize for Excellence in Fiction Writing. Born in Virginia, raised in Ohio, he currently lives in Brooklyn and works in eBook production. You can find his writing at chris-gonzalez.com.
PERRY McDAID: Running Away
“My house, my rules!” he’d roared.
My legs complain of the extended sitting of the journey, the chill no one else seems to acknowledge, the vibrations of the traffic.
Deposited among chaos and unconcern by a cabbie who’d taken money I’d put aside for a meal, I reappraise father’s “tyranny”.
Irish writer Perry McDaid lives in Derry under the brooding brows of Donegal hills which he occasionally hikes in search of druidic inspiration.
CARRIE: Sunday Morning Call
Every Sunday at 10 AM, Lucy calls. Initially, I explained that she had the wrong number. But Lucy forgets. So I pretend to be her dead daughter. We talk. We laugh. We exchange I-love-yous. Every week.
It’s 10:01 AM. For the first Sunday in seven years, the phone stays silent.
Carrie has a poor memory and dislikes talking on the phone.
CATHY DYER: Time With Family
Nursing home conversation:
Is that Myrtle? I thought she went to live with her daughter.
It didn’t work out.
Why? She was so excited since her kids never had time to visit her here.
She discovered something that broke her heart worse than being an afterthought.
What?
Being an obligation.
Cathy is a temporarily out of work bookkeeper, taking a little time off to play in the fields of words and exercise the other half of her brain.
JASON HUYNH: Budding Rivalry
She’s high maintenance; I thrive anywhere. She’s so rooted; I can go with the wind. She’s so thorny; I open up to people so much faster.
Yet they take her for perfume, and take me out with their weed killer. Hmph.
At least they eat my greens. Take that, Rose.
Jason has seen both of these flowers in his mother’s garden. Through some cursory research, he learned that rose leaves can be used for tea. Dandelions (derived from the French “dent de lion”) are healthy and versatile, and they also have medicinal properties. Maybe someday people can overlook the fact that they are “nutrient hogs” and utilize them to their fullest extent.
JENNIFER L FREED: The Truth
“Please! Tell me!”
“It’ll be disturbing…”
“Look, I got you out of that place, hid you here, all to find out what you know about me. Not knowing is driving me crazy.”
“John… You’re the one hiding, inside yet another of your scenarios. You’ve lived in this facility twelve years.”
Jennifer L Freed has fun trying to meet the challenge of 50- and 100-word stories. Her poetry and flash have appeared in various on-line and print journals (including 50-Word Stories). Find more at jfreed.weebly.com.
JANE BEDARD: Jealousy
She stood, unsteady, surrounded by the chaotic aftermath.
Tailored suits and shirts strewn everywhere. The glittery remains of a vase sprayed across the floor. The background “whir” of a shredder, determinedly chewing on a silk tie.
And in the mirror, the mascara-smeared face of unrecognizable madness stared back at her.
Jane is a current writer, former teacher, mother, and happily married wife—unlike the character in this story. She just moved from the big city of Toronto to a teeny tiny town called Fonthill with her husband and three sons, giving her more time to write and less time to make a living.
CANDACE KUBINEC: The Diviner
She was a diviner. Some claimed she was a prophet; others believed she was a witch.
She could not only find water but other lost things. Not just keys or socks but hope and love.
She found me when my neighbor’s well went dry. I didn’t know I was lost.
Candace Kubinec wrote this story.