Temperatures rose, sea level too.
Melting glaciers flooded more land.
Some struggled to reduce emissions.
Others shrugged, undaunted by growing evidence
Of fires, floods, and environmental chaos.
Politicians dithered, totally impotent.
Humanity stood staring at the abyss,
Desperate for saviours, but none appeared.
Look to yourselves, a tiny voice said.
Alan Kemister is a retired scientist experimenting with more fictitious writing. He’s currently working on a climate change novel. Get the gory details at alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com.
Giggly, smiling, innocent seductress peering out from the pages of school yearbooks. One foot on the hockey field, one in the library. The world spread out before her.
Years, babies, miscarriages, surgeries, illnesses, and life. My Mom. All grown up.
If only I had known the girl of the giggles.
Eileen Mardres is a retired teacher / social worker and sometimes writer of manuals and English test questions. She is now writing her way through her senior years with micro-fiction, poetry, and memoirs of life adventures.
Death heard the newborn’s cry and began his inevitable journey.
Sometimes he can save them early, but too often the path is arduous and slow. He weeps when he reaches them in old age: by then they have suffered a life too long, in all its illusion and false hope.
Tom O’Brien is an Irishman living in London. He’s been published in numerous places across the web and has been anthologised in Blood & Bourbon, Blink-Ink, DEFY! and twice in the Uncommon print collections. He’s on Twitter at @tomwrote and his website is tomobrien.co.uk.
Sani and I stood in a hotel parking lot once and watched two children who were standing silently, holding each other’s hands and looking at the ground, while their parents fought.
That night we promised each other we’d always talk gently.
Those were hopeful days, before we knew the world.
Owen Yager is a senior at Carleton College. His work has recently appeared or is upcoming in multiple publications, including Flash Fiction Magazine.
Despair of evening gives way to terrors of the night, to sleep, disrupted, dreaming of elegance, of past and future nightmares. To wake to morning and rise, to work, to read, to listen for wisdom, to love again and hope for another evening, another night, another dream of another day.
Originally from New York, Janet Clare lives in Los Angeles with her husband. She’s had short fiction and essays published in literary journals online and anthologized. She studied at UC Berkeley and UCLA. Her first novel, Time Is the Longest Distance, was published December 2018 by a small press out of Australia, where the story is set. She is at work on her second novel, A Different Happiness.
The day fertilizer was delivered, he showered it down hollering, “Girl, watch our corn grow!” His eyes always checked the skyline for clouds.
Fallow fields all around; only thing growing fast is cancer. Rain healed the crops. Now I wheel Dad into the storms, praying it will heal him too.
Madeleine Kleppinger is a writer with a day job as a scientist in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. She hosts a blog that helps readers discover their greatest story, with weekly posts that range from book reviews to original short stories to lifestyle pieces about adventurous living. Her free time is spent bounding through the wilderness with her American Bulldog, Sonnet.
Her heavy legs had stood and waited. Her aching arms had pushed through the crowds.
A salty tear rolled down onto her tattered jacket as she watched the doors of salvation thud closed. The city was full.
Now she had nothing left to do but head back into the sand.
After graduating university with a degree in Drama and Theater Arts, Jennifer Kennett somehow began writing speculative fiction. She has had work published in Mad Scientist Journal (fall 2016), Longshot Island (Spring 2017), The Weird Reader (Winter 2017) and Astounding Outpost (Winter 2017). Follow her on Twitter at @Jen_Kennett.
I wake up to greet my old friend, Anxiety.
How will I battle his belittlement and negativity today?
“Distressing but not dangerous,” I tell myself, “strive to be average.
Do the things you fear to do and wear the mask of security.
Endorse for every effort, then keep moving forward.”
Margie Nairn wrote this story based on the tools taught by Recovery International.
They were waiting here for the train
Not a word had been spoken
And yet they knew there was significance to their waiting.
Circumstances had placed them here as much as led them on.
This was their future, their hopes, their dreams, their everything.
The train would take them home.
Bruce Levine, a native Manhattanite, has spent his life as a writer of fiction and poetry and as a music and theatre professional and is published on and in numerous internet and print journals. His work is dedicated to the loving memory of his late wife, Lydia Franklin.
In the morning she takes fresh bearings,
assessing the terrain, gauging the distance.
Night rain has left a low-lying mist distorting the landscape.
Maybe there exists, just beyond the farthest hill,
something else, something more to view
than lowland haze hiding steep rocky hills.
The wind blows right through her.
For C., of course.
Bob Thurber is the author of “Paperboy: A Dysfunctional Novel” and two collections of stories. A celebrated master of Flash and Micro Fiction, his work has appeared in 60 anthologies, received dozens of awards, and been used in schools and colleges throughout the world. He resides in Massachusetts where, though legally blind, he continues to write every day. Visit his website at BobThurber.net.