“Right then,” said Lieutenant Nougat of Chocolatetown Police. “Can you describe the robbers?”
“Y-yes,” faltered Mrs Rum-Truffle, the bank manager. “They were big and b-blocky, very tough, dense, and c-cold. Oh, so cold.”
Lieutenant Nougat got on the radio. “Attention all units – be on the lookout for two hardened caramels.”
Lee Nicholas likes to describe himself in just 15 words, which can sometimes lead to.
Sixty-two prisoners huddle as Oberscharfuhrer Misner strolls their lines, culling unfit laborers for the death chambers.
Furman entreats his feverish hand: Still work a needle, draw a thread.
Misner scrutinizes Furman’s wound.
Saunters away.
Did mercy nudge him along?
Or a vanity to have his torn shoulder flap stitched securely?
Gary Thomson once (naively) thought that tailoring centred on trimming trousers and attaching buttons.
The story of the week for January 6 to 10 is…
Shivering to Death by Bob Thurber
and
Morning by Amanda LaMantia
The town crier proclaims that new stories are banned by His Majesty’s Royal Decree. Every idea has been used, each plot exhausted, and all tales worth telling have been told. Further invention is a forbidden waste of effort, effective today.
“A story embargo?” thinks Dreamy Daisy. “What an intriguing premise!”
For playwright Joanna Alexandra Norland, writing is the ultimate freedom.
Whispers circulate as I await my order. Coffee. Black.
“It’s late, right?” Frazzled voices everywhere. I glance outside. The sun hasn’t risen. Alarming. Newsworthy, and I am on the air soon. There’s yelling. Someone collapses.
Smiling, drink finally in my hand, I step over the fainter and into the darkness.
Amanda comes from New England and has been writing since she was young. She has a degree in English from Colby College and spent many years in the education field before leaving to raise her kids.
Hands out the sunroof in a beat-up sedan after sneaking out in the middle of the night
turned into red street lights blaring past our bloodshot eyes as we both thought of college the next year in separate cities
turned into two cars driving down new roads instead of one.
Haley DiRenzo is a writer, poet, and practicing attorney specializing in eviction defense. She lives in Colorado with her husband and dog.
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.