They said I did it for money, or clout, or spite.
It’s true. I envied you, sprawled out maned and muscled as a sleeping lion in my bed. How I wanted it, a golden tassel.
But no one ever guessed the truth: that I wanted your strength for my own.
Elizabeth Wing is a writer and trail worker based in Portland, Oregon. Her work has appeared in 7×7, Hanging Loose Magazine, The West Marin Review, and other venues.
I can hear the mountains whisper, the rain clouds call.
Come home.
I can hear the subway, heels click on Manhattan streets.
We do not need you.
I close the plane ticket tab on my computer.
Sometimes you don’t have to like it, you just have to do it.
Seven is a writer living in Brooklyn (for now), who knows there is more for them to do before they can find their way home.
He manages to sleep through the ruckus and wake up on time. In the morning, he retreats to his safe place: his friends, a hot breakfast, and his books are there, waiting for him.
His parents have that same argument over and over, every night. It is their safe place.
Cecile lives in Northern California where she enjoys writing to the sound of the gentle rain.
Marilyn went to sleep next to her husband of sixty-nine years and woke up next to an alien. White eyes. Grayish skin. She pondered the imposter.
Carefully, she laid down and covered them both with the blanket. Perhaps the ship that had taken her husband would come back for her.
Sarah Gane Burton is a freelance writer living in Michigan with her husband, two children, and a dog. Her poetry has been published in “Medical Literary Messenger” and “Third Wednesday.”
Julie Harrington’s mother made her into a living doll, blue eyes open, staring into space, hungry for invisible food, she never wet her diaper or cried: such a good baby, talking only when her string was pulled: I love you, let’s play, may I have a cookie, you hurt me.
Catherine Harnett is a poet and fiction author from Northern Virginia who has published three books of poetry and a number of short stories which appear in national and international magazines and anthologies. See more at catherineharnett.com.
For hours from Missoula to Calgary, Jake didn’t drive straight. He zoomed past those empty cop cars that are meant to scare you into compliance. He liked that you couldn’t know they were empty until you passed them, but you could know you were a black boy, crying, laughing, speeding.
Charlinda Banks is an emerging writer currently living in Boston, MA. She mainly writes about family, gender, sensuality, and ghosts through poetry, fiction, and creative essays. When Charlinda isn’t writing she is working in the nonprofit arts, reading, or lighting a candle.
You’re bludgeoned with (arguably) the scariest diagnosis you’ll ever receive. Parts of your body are chopped off, dissected, catalogued, banked. You’re tethered, drips saturating what remains with killer chemicals. You lie bare, pinpointed radiation beams burning tender fresh scars.
Finally to hear: “If you die of something else, this worked.”
Susan Heisner, aka the wyowordslinger, writes for fun and connection.
Sometimes you cry in the kitchen; sometimes I do. Our teeth grew sharp and our legs tails; we didn’t have a choice as the saltwater rose. But together we can dance in the waves that almost reach the ceiling. Two of a kind. Bound together by something stronger than blood.
Calla Smith lives and writes in Buenos Aires, Argentina. She enjoys continuing to discover all the forgotten corners of the city she has come to call home. She has published a collection of flash fiction “What Doesn’t Kill You”, and her work can also be found in several literary journals.
The story of the week for November 18 to 22 is…
Secret Regret by Matthew Eichenlaub
and
Remote by Yash Seyedbagheri
Lorraine bit into another buttery popover, the honey-lemon glaze making her swoon. Heavenly—worth the two-hour service. The daughter drew close; panic constricted Lorraine’s throat. She prepared to spin her lie of friendship with the deceased, then the daughter turned away.
Lorraine could already taste the chicken and mashed potatoes.
Amanda A. Gibson’s writing has appeared in journals such as The Common, Five Minutes, Orca, and JMWW. She’s working on her second novel. Amanda spends as much time as possible outdoors.