He’s a lonely fixture on the street corner: cardboard sign, threadbare coat, empty eyes resigned to this fate. His life is a mere bump in the road. Ignored by many, embraced by none, even though he once lived their lives.
In the night, he howls without words and resolves nothing.
Candace Kubinec posts her stories at storydribbles.wordpress.com and her poetry at rhymeswithbug.com.
“Write what you know.”
Posit: the here and now.
Twist: the here is grubby, the now is relative, but menacing concerns lurk in the shadows.
Outcome: blocked; none of it matters.
Not knowing how long my cardboard shelter will last isn’t letting me think straight.
Monica Perez Nevarez is a sustainability manager by day, but is trying to transition into writing full time.
It was one of those days. She was late for work, spilled boiling coffee on her iPhone, and got into an argument with a colleague.
Life was horrible.
On her way home, a homeless man approached, panhandling, tears of despair in his sky-blue eyes.
Bad days, she realized, are relative.
Debbi Antebi (@debbisland) exhales oxygen while writing stories. Follow her at debbiantebi.wordpress.com.
I see a homeless lady standing. Her sweater hangs loosely from her frame.
A man walks near her. He gives her a cigarette.
Her hair looks like dying grass.
I look at the leaves falling slowly, and I want to bury each one as if they were a loved one.
Jorge B. Valdes Jr., an SFA graduate student, lives in East Texas and contributes to movie, film, and book reviews for the Horrorzine, having contributed to their anthology, “Feast of Frights.” On his time off, he tries to ponder reality, and the reality of truly being and enjoying things. Valdes is happily married and has 2 wonderful dogs named Corben and Shadow.