A man wrote a song and died.
Trembling, the song tried to sing herself.
Each day she practised, flexing melodic limbs, strengthening pale notes, until she came to understand discordant beauty.
That day, her song spilled into rivers and comet trails, spread throughout galaxies.
The universe leaned in to listen.
Lisa Alletson is an emerging writer whose work has been published in The Globe and Mail, Ginosko Literary Journal, and The Write Launch. She was born in South Africa and lives in Toronto, Canada. Follow her on Twitter at @LisaAlletson.
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.
He turns off the flashlight. They’re in total darkness. Water laps against their boat. A drop of water lands on her head.
“It’s just a cave kiss,” he says.
She doesn’t like caves or boats. She does love this man. She closes her eyes and dreams she is the moon.
Candace Kubinec posts her stories at storydribbles.wordpress.com and her poetry at rhymeswithbug.com.
Finally, the call came, after six months of mystery liquid
dripping from her nose–
a cerebral fluid leak originating from a hole at the base of her brain.
The enemy had been unmasked after not one, not two, but three lab samples.
No time for fear; she prepared for battle.
Vernae is a wife, mother, and grandmother who is getting off the sidelines and into the art of writing for better or for worse. Vernae is currently completing three books of poetry that reflect the joys, challenges, and hope throughout the human experience.
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.
The baker cuts chunks from the amoeba dough. It’s sticky in his hands, protesting against separation onto the kneading board.
From the display of loaves, shiny like glazed pots, I choose the largest and the assistant swaddles it in tissue. I carry the loaf like a babe in my arms.
Gail Aldwin’s debut novel, The String Games, has been long-listed in The People’s Book Prize. If you’d like to support her to reach the next level, you can vote using this link. Voting is open until 15 October 2019.
As Granny evanesced,
she left a whisper,
words which echo
“From magic we come
and to magic we return.
I am reeds bending in the wind,
the brush of soft willows,
birdsong before the dawn.
I am not gone from this world,
but with you
Matthew Coward is a habitual daydreamer, occasional writer and proud night-owl. He writes fantasy inspired flash fiction, short stories and poetry.
Books pile up around the bed like sandbags. He’d just finished another one about gulags. There were people who’d lost fingers and toes while digging for nothing, with nothing for miles in any direction.
Worse off? No doubt. Still, taking no chances, he pulled the sheets up and cocooned himself.
Patrick Mc Loughlin is an English Language Teacher in Ireland and Dabbles in writing. He also dabbles in painting and music and someday hopes to do more than dabble. He lives in the west of Ireland, where it’s hard to concentrate.
sits on a park bench.
Pigeons know her.
They cluster… fight… peck.
The children recognize her too:
the one who feeds the pigeons.
Lily giggles, opens her purse,
sets it on the ground.
“She’s crazy,” the children taunt.
Pigeons though, coo, bob…
fly into her purse
filled with sky.
Judy DeCroce is a poet / flash fiction writer and animal lover. She has been published in Pilcrow & Dagger, Amethyst Review, The Sunlight Press, Cherry House Press- Dreamscape:An Anthology, and many others. Judy is a professional storyteller and teacher and lives and works in upstate New York with her husband, writer/artist Antoni Ooto.