My dog is deaf, and I whisper when I want to communicate with him. I find lowering the timbre of my voice accentuates the movement of my mouth. My dog is smart; he can lip read.
My cat, on the other hand, is blind. He is a work in progress.
In real life, Steven’s dog feigns deafness, and his cat is merely short-sighted, but both are willing to play along in aid of dramatic effect.
The monster under my bed whispers to me in the dark. Says I’m small, scared, so easy to pull down and rip apart and chew up until I’m nothing but two knuckle bones hanging from a string.
I listen, frozen, until I scream, run.
Mom sighs, says: “Ignore your brother.”
Catherine Ann Fox lives in Indiana with her husband, and enjoys writing all sorts of weird things. Logically, she knows there’s nothing under her bed but boxes, but one can never be too careful, can they?
The first day that I drove my new son and his exhausted mom home from the hospital, the freeway was thick with fast cars maneuvering around mega pick-ups with large tires and 40-ton semis, all in a mad dash to get somewhere.
How will I ever protect him?
Michael Borne lives in Texas, where large pick-up trucks seem to proliferate.
He thought about retiring.
He took a leave-of-absence, headed south, got a job driving kids to summer camp. He’d always liked kids.
These kids laughed at his belly, threw things into his beard.
He couldn’t wait to get home where kids were just names on lists—naughty or nice.
Candace Kubinec posts her stories at storydribbles.wordpress.com and her poetry at rhymeswithbug.com.
It’s been a long time and I’ve missed you, my old friend.
The thought of you, your smell. The way you taste.
You’re always on my mind.
I know it’s been good to be away from you, but I want you back in my life.
Hello carbs, my old friend.
Susan is a Technical Writer by day and fiction writer at night. She adores her five grandkids.
Who knows why I even bother, but I inform every army that the rented siege weapons must be returned in the same condition if they want their deposit.
“Of course!” they all say.
Then they haul back a pile of splintered wood and mangled metal, assuming they return at all.
Iain Young found a two-for-one discount in his mail. He’s wondering how he got on that mailing list.
I am not adventurous with food. Simple meals without spices or sauces suit me. The new cook at the cafeteria gives me a wink and a knowing smile. Others complain the cabbage is boiled to death and the stew is tasteless.
On our passionless dates we share pizza without toppings.
Stuart is a retired teacher from Christchurch, New Zealand. He likes to fire up his taste buds with devilishly spicy foods.
Carolyn shows up agitated, out of kilter. We feign concern and lean in for what could possibly be a delicious story.
“Mother is in jail,” says Carolyn. “She shot the neighbor’s hamster.”
We gasp. “Jail? For that stupid hamster?”
“The problem is,” says Carolyn, “she was aiming for the neighbor.”
Linda Saldaña lives in the San Francisco Bay Area and would like to assure everyone that no actual hamsters were harmed in the creation of this story.
I knew this guy once who said you should never give a watch to anyone you care about. “Because your relationship will have a time limit.”
I thought nothing of it.
Since then, however, I have given watches to several people that I no longer want to know.
It works.
Michelle is an award-winning author and poet. She is a contributor in the most recent Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Spirit of Canada, and a quarter finalist in the 2017 ScreenCraft Short Screenplay contest. Her writing has appeared in The Globe and Mail (one of Canada’s National newspapers) and a number of local magazines and newspapers including The Briar Crier, Total Sports, Voice of the Farmer, Arts Talk and Focus 50 Plus. Her short story “Lightning Strikers” (also featured on Commuter Lit) was made into a series in the Focus 50 + Newspaper because fans asked for more! This year, Michelle won the Ontario Writers Conference Story Starter Contest in two categories. You can find her online at commuterlit.com, fiftywordstories.com, femininecollective.com, michelledinnick.com, and @MichelleDinnick.
Contrary Carl is the world’s most annoying housemate.
He opens the closets,
stands in the sitting room,
works in the playroom,
plays in the workshop,
parks on the driveway,
wears shorts in the pantry,
and keeps his mistress in the master bedroom.
So I locked him in the living room.
Mark Farley writes novels, flash fiction, and the occasional poem. See more at mumbletoes.blogspot.com.