I don’t want to upgrade. I like you, Jim. You’ve been good for me. It’s been a great two years.
But now they’ve come out with the iHusband 7. All those cool new features. Improved interface. I just have to have it.
I love you honey, but this is goodbye.
Matthew F. Amati lives in Monona, Wisconsin. He plays the banjo and he mutters.
The magic was long gone and left pesky murmurs, wretched smiles behind.
Before consulting a psychologist, I decided to cook dinner for us. We sat on the table; she examined the meat vigilantly.
“It’s the left ventricle of my heart,” I explained. “Or at least, whatever is left of it.”
George S. Karagiannis is an aspiring science fiction author whose love for writing never decays.
You say I am beating a dead horse. Maybe that’s the case, and if so, then I will continue beating a dead horse. I will beat it often and loudly. I will beat it until it becomes a drum demanding the protection of civil rights for all!
BAM! BAM! BAM!
P.J. is taking the year off and wandering the country and her mind. She has no publications of note.
“I need more money,” he said and ordered a book on computer programming. He sat in cafés each night, hunting and pecking for opulence. At first I shook my head, but soon became curious.
“Did you make any money from that book?”
“Depends. How much will you pay for it?”
Peter Burns grew up in Appleton, Wisconsin. He currently lives in Daejeon, South Korea and is an associate professor of English at Joongbu University.
Sometime after midnight a flame flared outside my window, momentarily illuminating his face. He had a cigarette clenched between his teeth. His eyes mirrored the flame, creating three distinct points of light, which all vanished at once, leaving only the orange tip of his cigarette dancing like a bumbling firefly.
Over the years Bob Thurber’s work has received a long list of awards and prizes. His most recent book is a collection of brief stories titled “Nothing But Trouble”. Visit BobThurber.net.
I fix my gaze on the pew, suffocating. I hear the eulogies:
“A man of impeccable character.”
“My hero.”
“A good man.”
The judge addresses the man directly.
“I accept your guilty plea and sentence you to prison.”
After 30 years, I raise my head and breathe. I am safe.
Dani Bostick works as a speaker and psychotherapist and lives as a survivor.
She smiled at me, an innocent upturn of her lips. I never saw the noose tightening around my neck.
She called me her little butterfly. I never thought she’d clip my wings.
She said she loved me. It was a love that strangled.
But she didn’t know desperation could kill.
Jenora Vaswani is a cat-lover, aspiring writer, and someone who just really likes cookies. She spends her time cuddling her two little balls of fluff who think (mistakenly!) that they’re in charge.
Michael changed the bandage, concerned that his arm wasn’t healing.
He sat at his desk, glancing nervously at the wall clock. Only two hours to prepare himself for the pitch. He hadn’t wanted to call on the daemon with such little time.
He tore a blood-flecked page from the typewriter.
Jeff is a handyman who also writes. When he has time he posts to his blog.
He smiles, writing his phone number on a rumpled piece of paper. “Call me if anything breaks.”
She walks with it in her pocket, his crisp penmanship something like a promise.
It’s in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, under a bright sky, that she calls to say, “I’m broken.”
Kathryn Trattner writes from the middle of the United States supported by three cats, two kids, and one husband. Her fiction can be found in various literary magazines. Find her at www.kathryntrattner.com.
They meet on the rooftop, party underway, the trendy and unhip neatly segregated.
I, above the labels, cross the crowd observed, envied. This is my house partied upon. I stand amongst the beautiful people.
We sham an invented happiness. Our surroundings believe the lies.
It’s time to retreat; more cocaine.
Jeffrey Albright is an aspiring writer of compelling fiction. His passion for storytelling was fostered by years of working in and owning a boutique hair salon where, from behind the chair, he has heard many a tall tale and met enough characters to cast his stories for years.