A glistening perspiration drop sparkled in the sunshine next to her left eyebrow. Work friends, we jogged together once a week. Sitting on a bench after a long run, she spoke passionately about something.
“Are you listening to me? What are you doing?”
“Falling in love with you.”
“About time!”
Dart Humeston is a Floridian who dodged hurricanes and alligators while working as a university administrator and faculty. He writes short stories and novels.
July meant camping in Susan’s backyard and, one Friday, she brought out a needle and pen. Like always, Helen went first. Held Carly’s hand against the pinch. Matching hearts. Later, when she was alone, she touched the smudged ink. Felt Carly’s grip, Susan’s laugh, summer: bottled and rolled under skin.
Salena Casha’s work has appeared in over 100 publications in the last decade. Her most recent work can be found on HAD, Ghost Parachute, and Wrong Turn Lit. She survives New England winters on good beer and black coffee. Subscribe to her substack at salenacasha.substack.com.
Rusty green 1978 Dodge rumbling down Bennett.
Sneakers slapping concourse concrete.
Up, and up, and up.
Peeking through rapidly passing entry ways.
Bases loaded.
We sit.
Ellis Burks drives an inside fastball clear out of McCoy.
Stand up.
“Never show up an inning too late,” Pop says, chuckling and cheering.
Matty Joe Afonso has been passionate about writing since Mrs. Chisholm’s second grade class and her weekly short story challenges. In college, he studied writing under published poet Randy Blasing. His greatest inspiration came later in life from a familiar source: award-winning flash-fiction author Bob Thurber, Matty Joe’s childhood neighbor and father of his best friend, Sarah Kate. After reading Thurber’s Paperboy, Matty Joe was inspired to one day publish his own work. Matty Joe was raised and lives to this day in North Attleboro, Massachusetts with his girlfriend Corey and their combined six children, two dogs, and one fat cat.
Flour spilled in the kitchen
is swept outside to merge
with a tossed crust of bread
borne by two rows of ants
going down the hill toward
the underground grotto
where a rabbit holds
a perfect English muffin
between her paws─
her aspirational muffin.
She’d rather starve than eat it.
Cheryl Snell writes poetry and fiction.
The story of the week for August 19 to 23 is…
Ever the One Moon by Karris Rae
One night, after bedtime stories and goodnight kisses,
the parents of God left the door open a tiny crack,
allowing a sliver of light to shine through.
It was just enough illumination for God to make shadows dance on the wall,
before it was time to wonderfully dream about everything.
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.
When the writer took his wife on a hike up the mountain trail, little did he know that his difficulty with words would cause her death. As they navigated the ravine they startled a massive rattlesnake, which struck out.
The writer, terrified, tried every snakebite anecdote he could think of.
Robert Carlberg struggles with words sometimes. The ones he’s looking for can stay frustratingly just out of reach, while unbidden nonsense frosts his pirate topiary.
After my release from jail, Dad drives 350 miles away from the guns, thugs, and drugs. The rolling hills and fresh air are meant to calm my restive nerves.
The rural kids are slow learners, which they make up for with loyalty—what every gang leader prizes more than guns.
Chidi Young writes from Jos, Plateau State Nigeria. He’s a teacher, graphic designer, and a photographer who loves to read and write short stories.
Sitting, barefoot in alpine meadow surrounding his cabin, he spoke to her, “Deep wilderness has no bridges, but it has no stop signs either.”
Silence.
They watched coyotes running, marsh hawks hunting, and she realized she needn’t look further than the posturing pines to witness true freedom in this world.
Lillibit Ray has always written in her own personal journals, and she has taken several creative writing classes which helped her to develop and evolve a story or poem using real life experience and richer characters to bring the story or poetry to life. She has had poetry published in Dark Winter Literary Magazine, with the Dark Poet’s Club, and with Scars Publication. She writes on her own, for herself sometimes.
The night she died
I had a dream.
She was walking
on an uphill footpath
toward an illuminated place.
Leaving me for the last time.
She turned. Smiling.
Thrilled to see me.
Baby sister knew I feared
to carry on without her.
“You’ll be OK.
I’ll wait here for you.”
Martha Ellen lives alone in an old Victorian house on a hill on the Oregon coast. Retired social worker. She writes poems and prose to process the experiences of her wild life.