One afternoon together, after 412 days apart. If only we could stretch these hours to days, weeks even, maybe then we’d relax enough to find the right words to talk about my war at home, his war away.
Instead we part, saying a stilted goodbye, before he boards the train.
Laura Besley writes short fiction in the precious moments that her children are asleep. Her debut flash fiction collection, The Almost Mothers, will be published in 2020 by Dahlia Books. She tweets at @laurabesley.
An awkward, stilted embrace. A clumsy patting of the back. A final sticky handshake.
I stood and watched him depart into the throngs of people, then boarded.
I sat at the window smiling, thoughts centered on the complimentary drink. My pre-flight numbness faded, enabling me to savour his unspoken love.
Raymond has pieces published in 101 words and 101 fiction. He lives in Ireland.
She stirred creamer into her coffee; he drank his black.
“Aren’t you tired of the fighting?”
“Of course! But I thought we were worth it.”
He looked at her again. That old spark.
The waitress handed him the check.
“No,” he said. “We aren’t quite finished yet.”
We speak in code. Fake smiles
accentuate our encryption
as we avoid truthful confessions.
Lips spread wide
over camouflaged terms
as tongues stutter and tangle
The look in your eyes forces me into
We calculate our positions and
plot our next move.
We speak in code.
Arlene is a novice writer who enjoys writing flash fiction and poetry.
Am I coming back? Wow. Bluntness at last. Good for you. And about time, I must say. Imagine if we had always talked so openly, so directly. I wonder where our conversations would have led us, where we’d be right now. Not here. That’s a fair assumption, don’t you think.
Over the years Bob Thurber’s work has received a long list of awards and prizes. His most recent book is a collection of brief stories titled “Nothing But Trouble”. Visit BobThurber.net.
The day the little flat screen in the kitchen blew up, Heidi and Jim Colton knew they were in trouble. They listened to the loud hiss of static and watched the frantic swirling of tiny snowflakes blanketing the screen.
For the first time in years, they would have to speak.
Recently retired, Marian Brooks has begun to write some short fiction. Her work has appeared in Word Riot, Slice, The Short Humour Site, The Linnet’s Wings and others.
Groog no longer looked at Nugnug the way he used to. Now he watched Lala, who wore short loincloths.
“Nogh Lala!” Nugnug said, feeling frustrated and neglected. Groog ignored her.
“Groog!” She punched him in the arm, but he didn’t even flinch.
We need to talk, she thought.
Alisia sometimes likes to write things and posts them at eurasianflavour.wordpress.com or on twitter.