The woman who taught the prison’s Tuesday cooking class was a caricature named Milly. She spoke in exclamation marks and block letters.
“HI!” she said, the first day, into the overweight silence. “I’m MILLY! Welcome to COOKING for BEGINNERS!”
Fiona looked down at the knife in her hand, and wondered.
Anna Ascott is an Australian expat living in rural Germany in a village where the cows outnumber the people. When she isn’t organising her colleagues’ office supplies, she writes creative non-fiction, short stories, and flash fiction.
Crosswords, cappuccinos, and Classic FM: I basked in the gentle cadence of Sundays until I was caught depositing company profits into my account. Now, Sundays are indistinguishable from every other day: anaemic coffee, bartering jam for marmalade, and the sonorous symphony of my cellmate making a different kind of deposit.
Fee Johnstone is a managing editor of a medical journal who lives in Scotland and favours cats, craft beer, and cheese over most other things.
Karen spent every waking moment planning the perfect life. Her mind soaked up luxury, sun and freedom. She could almost taste her homemade spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove in her quiet apartment.
The putrid odor of another inmate slapped Karen back to reality.
Only nine thousand days to go.
Hillary blames the delicious aroma coming from her own kitchen and an article in the local newspaper for this story.
“Can’t a girl get a proper cup of tea around here?” asked Katherine.
“Sorry Miss, we only have black coffee.”
“It’s just flavored hot water, no need to act like it’s highfalutin. But I do have very refined tastes when it comes to my beverages.”
“Look, lady, this is jail.”
Carolyn Smuts taught history before fleeing academic life to write. Her work has appeared in SELF, Glamour, Creative Living, Ultimate Motorcycling, and Business Week. Her recent fiction works were published by Akashic Books, Jitter Press, Wordland, and Omnific. She lives in Southern California.
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.
Every year, on the anniversary of the last time he looked into her eyes, he wore the same outfit: a threadbare tweed suit and the ugly necktie she’d always hated. But then, corpses rarely change clothes.
Neither do prisoners, it turned out, because she always wore orange for the occasion.
Michael is a part-time lawyer and a full-time dad. You can read more of his creative writing at timintemecula.wordpress.com.
The guard we call “Snake” saunters over to my cell door, opens the bean slot, and snarls, “Due to unforeseeable circumstances, Sweetheart, your execution will be held on your birthday,” then slams the metal door shut, like it was a guillotine.
I can almost taste my favorite flavor cake frosting.
Brad Rose was raised in southern California, and lives in Boston. Links to his poetry and fiction, which appear in print and on-line, can be found at bradrosepoetry.blogspot.com.
“The world’s your oyster!” they said.
I want to say they lied, pin the blame on anyone but myself, but I can’t.
I could’ve made something of my life. Instead I chose the unthinkable.
He’s been in prison for nine years because of what I did. Six more to go.
Gabrielle Soong is a 17-year-old high schooler and aspiring writer. Besides writing, her favorite things are music, reading, and soccer. She has big plans to travel the world and write novels.
I stared blankly at my prison’s dull, featureless walls.
This wasn’t fair. I’d been locked away for a crime I hadn’t committed. I think. Actually, the details are a bit hazy.
My probing tongue found a morsel of chocolate chip behind my tooth.
Oh, yeah… I was guilty.
This story was based on the prompt “forgotten crime” at TypeTrigger.
The black cat strolled through the prison, being avoided by everyone in her path. She breezed into the first cell.
The prisoner dropped his head. “They didn’t believe me. That a wizard did it.”
“They will,” the cat said, transforming into his wife. She waved her wand, and they disappeared.
Jamie Mathews is an award-winning journalist and writer. He earned his BA from The University of Alabama, where he was a proud member of Honors English Program, and his MAT from the University of South Carolina. Find out more about Jamie on his site.