Clinging to the cliff’s edge by his finger tips, James oddly found time to think. He considered his position and in retrospect, he regretted his decision to split-up with Tina near a waterfall. He was never a huge fan of water and was fast losing his love of heights.
Arrrggghhh…
David is getting older by the day.
The ticket stub for the 8:50 showing of The Grand Budapest Hotel floated onto the bathroom floor.
It lay buried in my winter coat pocket all summer; today it fell out.
A bittersweet reminder of the last date before you left without a word. I can’t bear throwing it away.
Kristin Ronzi is a freelance writer and editor living in Tokyo, Japan. Her work has been featured in EastLit, Paragraph Planet, Anak Sastra, and The Anthem.
“Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”
“My boyfriend dumped me.”
“I’m sorry, Miss, but ending a relationship is not an illegal activity. There’s nothing I can do for you.”
“What about Phil’s smooth talking and handsome good looks? Can’t you arrest him for possession of burglary tools? He stole my heart!”
John H. Dromey had his story “Hunger Gamesmanship” posted at Stupefying Stories Showcase.
I’ve always been told to trust you. But you only entice me to make bad decisions, like eating Taco Bell after midnight. Then you spend hours punishing me!
And now you’re telling me to quit my job to become a novelist?
This isn’t working. I’m leaving you for my Head.
Diana Wagner loves to write and read and watch and think about stories.
There’s a buzzing in my mind,
like a swarm
from a ripped and tattered hive.
Looking in my direction,
can you see my soul
through your dark and stinging eyes?
What happened to the words
so softly spoken,
your gentle hand,
your warm embrace,
as we walked, talked, and smiled.
Patrick works with robots and computers, at times writing software, but he would rather write poems.
The burly biker stormed in, sleeve rolled up to expose “Christina”. One glance and I knew.
As the tattoo machine drew the line, I patiently listened to him curse at her. A long silence followed.
He winced, seeing the crossed-out name through sorrowful tears. Ink could only cover, not remove.
On a lighter note, Jason is enjoying his summer.
I haven’t cleaned (or done much of anything) since you left, and now I only have dust clouds to keep me company in my silent apartment.
I resolve to vacuum, knowing I can treat myself to a peek at your picture (which I’ll destroy, I swear!) in the storage closet.
Sheela Kamath is a copy editor based in the San Francisco Bay Area. When she’s not writing, she’s adding books — from literary fiction to sci-fi and fantasy — to her Goodreads list and playing with her dog Starbuck (named for “Battlestar Galactica,” naturally). You can follow her on Twitter @skamath3.
“I don’t love you enough.” How can enough be measured?
Five short words have changed months of planning for a shared future. We are no longer we.
But ‘I am’ succeeds ‘we are’, as determination succeeds incomprehension. My eyes are dry.
The future is all mine. He cannot change that.
A little over a year ago Debb Bouch entered a short story into a Needle in the Hay contest. Regular contests since have provided encouragement and challenge. And writing is all about challenge.
I finally open it and pull out the letter. Enough’s enough.
I’d waited 392 days. Hadn’t moved, the clock stayed stopped.
You said everything you knew about us, everything you would carry with you to your next love, everything you lost sleep over, was in this letter.
The sheet’s blank.
Michael Morrison is a musician and writer from Edinburgh. His short stories are usually inspired by overheard snippets of conversation, local news headlines, and the day-to-day tales we tell ourselves and others.
The unopened letter stared me down. He’d promised to write, but this was the first letter in weeks.
I anticipated what it said: his time abroad changed him.
Finding courage, I began reading. Everything became clear with that last line:
“Distance can’t separate us. I return next week. Marry me.”
Jennifer Carnesi is an eleventh-grade student in southern Louisiana. Besides writing she enjoys drawing, dance and spending time with friends.