Game, set, match.
After a four-hour battle, X has finally defeated Z. It is the first time in their long careers.
X walks to the net, outstretches his hand, but Z barely shakes it.
“First in a thousand,” Z disdainfully mutters.
“Maybe,” X says. “But the first of a million.”
Alice Cimino is a student who loves writing and thrives to improve. Does she have time? Not necessarily. But does time matter? It depends on how you see it…
Spring in Paris was really happening. The penny-pinching and missed social outings were bearable because Paris was her dream.
Finally, shivering in her dress coat, Janet gazed upon a glowing Eiffel Tower. It was her shooting star: shutting her eyes tightly, she wished fervently for a life spent less alone.
Susan Schwenk wrote this story.
Staring at the computer screen, wishing she were somewhere else.
The banks of the Euphrates, the moors of Scotland, the Australian Outback, the beach.
Anywhere but this cold, lifeless cubicle.
Flipping the screen, she looks at her bank account balance.
Back to the drudgery to one day earn her escape.
Susan is a Curriculum Developer at a mortgage company. She is widowed with two grown daughters, two stepsons, and four awesome grandchildren: two boys and two girls.
She often wept in mourning over a life she deemed wasted… unfulfilled.
She’d always had one singular purpose but at 43, that ship had long sailed.
Shame from decades of destruction and despair evaporated into rapture as she watched the positive result appear on the stick she’d just peed on.
Although Lisa struggled with severe mental health issues for many years, she worked tirelessly to rise above and find joy. She works part-time helping others dealing with mental illness while also soaking up the incredible joy she’s found in her beautiful, healthy 2 month old baby girl… her constant reminder that the Universe will always rise up to meet us.
Nobody saw the blood on her hands, as she walked out the door. She had only done him and herself a favour. They probably wouldn’t have had a “bright future” together anyway. It was for the best.
Back in the room, her inner artist child lay slain, bleeding to death.
Yassi Dooo believes the inner artist of each person is of the opposite sex. How else could one pro(actively)create?
When I visited my blind brother, he was sharpening his shooting skills. He was so embarrassed; he couldn’t hit a thing.
I pulled my pen out and placed it in his sweaty palm. I said, “Take this pen, brother, so that you may draw targets around the holes you make.”
George S. Karagiannis was born in Thessaloniki, Greece and is currently a PhD student at the University of Toronto in Canada. He enjoys writing science-fiction (in an non-professional level, so far) in the subgenres of hard science fiction, bizzarro and apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic settings.