I once watched a momma bird feed her babies. She returned again and again with a worm for their waiting beaks.
As the babies got bigger, their number decreased: four, three, two, one.
And when the nest was empty, the robin sat holding the worm, no longer valuable or necessary.
Sue Silva is a freelance writer who lives in Ontario, Canada.
She awoke from the grips of the nightmare. She’d been standing over him again, a knife dripping red in her hand.
Reaching towards him, towards the soothing warmth of his body, she frowned. The bed was empty.
Right, she thought. It hadn’t been a dream. Funny how she kept forgetting.
Melissa is a writer, teacher, and dog-lover living in the Middle of Nowhere, Michigan.
“Surface area is easy to calculate.”
Chalk squeaked. Equations appeared. The teacher picked up a wooden box and a steel ruler.
“All that’s needed is a good ruler and the right formula.”
The box rattled.
“What’s inside?” shouted a student.
“Not important,” said the teacher. “Won’t be on the test.”
Bruce Meredith retired from the practice of law about seven years ago. For most of his career he represented educators. After he retired, he started writing fiction. He has had six submissions accepted for publication, four of them in Veterans’ Journals.
Her body was ideal: spotless skin, flawless features, and perfect proportions. She was never sad; she never worried. She never even frowned.
They all watched her, marveling. If only they could be in her shoes!
So they looked up at her, wide-eyed, as she stood motionless behind the glass display.
Bojan Ratković is a writer from Serbia, now living in Ontario, Canada. His work has appeared in Every Day Fiction, Liquid Imagination, Great Lakes Review, Fiction Vortex, and on the World SF Blog. He is pursuing a PhD in political philosophy from the University of Western Ontario. Follow him on Twitter.
The story of the week for December 14 to 18 is…
All Sales Are Final by Daniel Slaten
A fun metaphor with some emotion behind it, like a solid meal with light flavors!
I have watched families light the temple pyre to wish their loved ones farewell. Other people’s people; their spires of smoke.
Now I light the pyre and sprinkle rosewater on you. Your ashes will float down the river but my memories of you will hover—suspended, like a dragonfly—forever.
Mohini Malhotra was born in New York, grew up in Nepal, Thailand, India, Italy, and lives in Washington DC. She runs a social enterprise that promotes contemporary women artists from emerging markets and invests profits to better women’s and girls’ lives. She loves words and flash fiction and just had her flash story Blink published by The Writer’s Center.
I watched, awestruck, as my baby daughter’s chubby little fingers slid across the surface of my smartphone. Roads and landscapes shifted beneath her touch. She pinched, and the map zoomed out.
A photo of my husband drifted past, betraying his GPS position.
Wait… That’s not the location of his conference.
Karen doesn’t claim to be Wonder Woman, simply a wife, mother, writer and roller girl, in addition to a day job as an Electronic Design Engineer. You’re invited to draw your own conclusions. Her debut release, an eBook titled “Trapping Honey’, is available now. See more at karenpomerantz.uk.
In spite of your exalted status, you are not invited to sit at the dinner table.
We will not save you a chair or set a place for you, and you will not be considered a centerpiece.
I left the letter on the table where I knew she’d find it.
Candace writes from a comfy chair since the cat is using the table.
He plopped his broken heart down on the counter and angrily demanded a refund.
“I can’t help you,” said the clerk. “Read the fine print in your contract. They all break at some point.”
“What am I supposed to do with a broken heart?”
“Be patient. It gets stronger. Eventually.”
Daniel Slaten writes short stories and poetry in small notebooks and on sticky notes.
Cop cars escort an open flatbed truck, stopping at every block with bullhorn announcements.
Residents of all ages come out to cheer as frightened youngsters are enticed to climb aboard the fat stranger, pose for pictures, and take his candy before he’s hauled away in a whoop of flashing sirens.
Lee DeAmali resides in the Los Angeles area with grown children who claim to have fond memories of this annual local tradition.