The needle pierces my worn-out vein. A schism opens between mind and body, thoughts and deeds; widens as I tumble into chaos, search for your eyes in those that turn away. Waves of light bear down on me. Blasts of sound. My head meets the pavement. And there you are.
Jayne Martin lives in Santa Barbara, California. She is a Pushcart, Best Small Fictions, and Best Microfictions nominee, and a recipient of Vestal Review’s VERA award. Her collection of microfiction, “Tender Cuts,” from Vine Leaves Press, is available now through all online book sellers. See more at jaynemartin-writer.com.
Month-old pinpricks in the ditch of her arm, her chip outlined in the tight khaki of her back pocket. Her sponsor says the next step is a job. Applications, follow-ups, interviews. They smile at her. She smiles back. The job is hers, but “drug testing is required.”
She leaves again.
Crystal Ellwood is currently an English professor at both New England College and Cumberland University in Lebanon, TN. Her work is forthcoming in HauntedMTL’s 101 Proof Horror anthology and The Spectre Review.
Splinters of wood from my door lay scattered on the floor. The intruder, eyes wild, face thin, pointed towards the window. “Trying to kill me. Ninjas on the roof.”
I dialed 911.
Cuffs on wrists; police took him away.
A metallic flash. A small throwing star embedded in the doorframe.
Roni Slye travels the land in search of hot springs, cool forests, and creative sparks. Her work has been published at The Molotov Cocktail and Nailed Magazine.
In this new world, the colors carried their own sounds, the air tasted like gingersnaps, and birds tweeted the blues.
A gruff gnome told Philip, “You are the chosen one.”
Nancy from HR hovered above, frowning. “We know you’re on drugs. We have to let you go. Get some help.”
L.L. Madrid lives in Tucson with her four-year-old daughter, an antisocial cat, and the occasional scorpion. Her work can be found lurking in places like Flash Fiction Magazine, Dali’s Lovechild, Literary Orphans, and in shoe boxes under her bed.
The sky was radiant blue and waves were lapping on the shore. The warmth of the sun touched his face. He could see boats and dolphins.
Beautiful. He was content.
The warden slid open the hatch and looked in on the prisoner. He looked happy; the meds had kicked in.
Steve Coverdale is an Englishman living in Nova Scotia. He keeps trying to write short stories with a happy ending but keeps on getting dragged back to the dark side.
Open eyes, fully alert, compliance shown.
Beer on my breath. Vicodin in my system.
Pulled over for purple turn signals. I correct in front of the officer.
The officer unaware. Passenger’s run impeded. Ticket given.
Blue awaits our departure.
Out of sight, I retrieve opened beer from door to calm.
Scott Trainer earned his BS at Ohio University in Adventure Recreation and his MFA at Ashland University in Creative Writing. He has been published in Ash and Bones Literary Magazine and writes articles somewhat consistently for watchfit.com. He also works with teenagers, taking them on adventure-oriented trips, and fights to instill efficacy in those left behind in society.
A tiny pinch, rushing into purest pleasure. Paradise dripping from the tip of a needle.
Take a deep breath. Tug the tourniquet – tap a vein.
Anticipation rattles her skeleton. Thin lips unsheath a jagged smile.
One last fix. Careful now, not too much.
Euphoria balances on the precipice of damnation.
Donna J. Dotson writes short, intense pieces of fiction and creative non-fiction, but sometimes, the universe hands her pure poetry. Her Jack Russell Terrier loves her work.
They meet on the rooftop, party underway, the trendy and unhip neatly segregated.
I, above the labels, cross the crowd observed, envied. This is my house partied upon. I stand amongst the beautiful people.
We sham an invented happiness. Our surroundings believe the lies.
It’s time to retreat; more cocaine.
Jeffrey Albright is an aspiring writer of compelling fiction. His passion for storytelling was fostered by years of working in and owning a boutique hair salon where, from behind the chair, he has heard many a tall tale and met enough characters to cast his stories for years.
They fed the talking lawn gnome Burger King in the backseat, heads swirling. Half-hour later the radio announced an amber alert—missing two-year-old girl taken while playing in front yard. They stared at the odd being and wondered, isn’t it strange how she ate all those fries? Isn’t it strange?
Caitlin McGill is the 2014 winner of the Rafael Torch Nonfiction Literary Award, and her work has appeared or is forthcoming in 48, Crab Orchard Review, The Cypress Dome, Digital Americana, Prairie Margins, The Southeast Review, Solstice, Sphere International, and Spry Literary Journal. She is also a writing instructor at Emerson College, where her students continually remind her of the power of language.
No more? That’s what you said last time.
Let’s face it, you depend on me now. I help you laugh. I help you feel alive. I help you get through your week of 9-5 job.
Come on, have one more and I’ll even help you not remember her name tomorrow.
Yassi is a novice writer. She is thoroughly enjoying her exploration of short sagas.