He had splurged on candied sockeye for her birthday. Goat cheese with basil leaves, tapenade, a creamy Brie. In the grocery store three times in four days, treats in fine China, bouquet of shimmering blooms.
That night, he walked into a pub, ordered chicken wings and a beer. Then another.
Suzanne Aubin is a retired language teacher who loves all things artistic and the great outdoors. She lives in Kelowna, BC.
Another year passes.
Once I had a thousand possibilities.
Now I glare at people laughing in the coffee shop.
I criticize people dancing in the grocery store.
And I growl at couples holding hands.
I hunch over bills and dusty history. I whisper silent apology, try to laugh; it’s cracked.
Yash Seyedbagheri is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA fiction program. His stories, “Soon,” “How To Be A Good Episcopalian,” “Tales From A Communion Line,” and “Community Time,” have been nominated for Pushcart Prizes. His work has been published in SmokeLong Quarterly, The Journal of Compressed Creative Arts, and Ariel Chart, among others. He has been working on a short story collection centered around two siblings and their quest for the American Dream. Yash lives in Garden Valley, Idaho.
You were one of the good guys, like Cincinnatus
returning home, you modeled virtue and service.
And Wendell Berry, a farmer and gentleman
like you, writes of a kingfisher returning after dusk.
Fly now Jimmy, like that kingfisher wild in flight
led by his delight back from where you came.
Matthew grew up in northern Kentucky just across the Ohio River from Cincinnati, a city named after Cincinnatus, who had left his farm to lead the Roman Army during a time of great military crisis. After 16 days he defeated the enemy, gave up his power and returned to farming.
With a new year approaching, Daniela knew it was time to sculpt her eyebrows, change her hair color, order new glasses. Maybe join a gym.
In 2025, she’d be ready for a job interview for her dream career. Maybe in Los Angeles, perhaps Boston, even Toronto.
Nobody could stop her.
Roberta Beach Jacobson is pretty sure nobody can stop her either.
You just saved my life, I told them when they picked me up.
The man nodded without turning. The woman half-leaned into the backseat.
That’s all right, honey. Get under the blanket and get warm.
The snow had stopped but the road ahead was buried, defined only by snow-covered trees.
Bob Thurber is the author of six books. Regarded as a master of Flash and Micro Fiction, his work has appeared in Esquire and other magazines, been anthologized 60 times, received a long list of awards, and been utilized in schools and colleges throughout the world. He resides in Massachusetts. Visit his website at BobThurber.net.
clickety-clacking is the tram
neighbors talking politics
it’s probably mid-morning
why’s it still pitch dark
or am I dreaming
no
turns out
I have yet to open my eyes
not bad
nice and soothing
what if I stay like this
also turn off my ears
will the world go away
J. S. O’Keefe is a scientist, trilingual translator and writer. His short stories and poems have been published in EDF, WENSUM, Roi Faineant, 101 Words, Spillwords, ScribesMICRO, 50WS, AntipodeanSF, Friday Flash Fiction, Spirit Fire Review, Medium, Paragraph Planet, 50 Give or Take, 6S, Satire, MMM, etc. See more at szjohnny.net
The story of the week for December 30 to January 3 is…
Shadowing by Sam Hall
Léon. My grandfather. King of the Jungle.
Pure fantasy, but his name, when expressed in his accented French drawl, seeded a child’s imagination; a belief further emboldened by me being his little tiger.
Now, stooped over a coffin, caressing his manicured mane, what wouldn’t I give for one last roar?
Inspired by his grandfather, Steven stalks vowels and consonants, rustles them into words, and when rounded up, takes pride in his lines.
The once-nubile starlet sips her second cocktail. Stylists flit about her like a flock of sparrows around a desiccated crust of bread. As makeup artists brush hues of youth across her cheeks, lips, and lashes, they dissemble, pretending their make-up magic, lipstick-tube talismans, and mascara-wand wizardry, will turn back time.
Wendy K. Mages, a Mercy University Professor, is a Pushcart Prize nominee and an award-winning poet and author. She earned her doctorate in Human Development and Psychology at the Harvard Graduate School of Education and her master’s in Theatre at Northwestern University. As a complement to her research on the effect of the arts on learning and development, she performs at storytelling events and festivals in the US and abroad. To learn more about her and her work, and to find links to her published stories and poetry, please visit her Mercy University Faculty page and her website, Wendy Mages: Storyteller.
The weatherman called it zero visibility.
Enticed, I stepped out the front lawn. Affirmative, no visibility; I couldn’t see my hands. Then, eerie feeling, I found myself. Yes, for the first time in my life I got to know me.
One thing certain, I’m not experimenting with weather ever again.
Johannes Springenseiss is a world citizen and raconteur. He mostly writes speculative fiction and creative essays, that he has published in various literary magazines.