Our eyes met through the glass, a chance that may never come again.
For one short moment we connected. Then just as quickly, she was gone—a graceful, young fawn.
I look for her on clear nights and wonder if she looks for me while eating apples under my tree.
Candace Kubinec posts her stories at storydribbles.wordpress.com and her poetry at rhymeswithbug.com.
The smoke alarm low-battery warning starts chirping.
Your kid’s stomach virus hits.
The faucet drips.
You notice that the cracks in the bedroom ceiling have gotten wider.
You hear an old train whistle in the distance.
You remember a song you haven’t heard since 1988.
I wonder where you are.
Robb Lanum is a failed screenwriter in Los Angeles. This is his third 50-word story. His longer, epic works have appeared on 101words.org.
You looked up into the night sky. Saw brilliant stars, expanding universe, mysterious galaxies, endless time. You looked down into my eyes. Saw faint light, boundaries of my soul, simpleness of my mind, the finity of my existence.
I linger beyond the border of light and dark, a black hole.
Marie A Bailey lives in the southeastern U.S. with a supportive husband and three cats. She has been published in The Disappointed Housewife as well as Florida’s Emerging Writers, An Anthology and America’s Emerging Writers, An Anthology of Fiction, Volume I, both by Z Publishing House. She blogs about writing, travel, knitting and cats at 1writeway.com.
Drops of time
Flow from the tap of life
Ever so slowly, at first
Then more quickly
Today they are a steady flow
My life is a force
I cannot slow down
As it races toward the unknown
I know it will run dry
Then I will only have goodbyes
Mary has written poetry since age ten and continues to write poems and short stories of human interest.
I kissed you on the mouth, lips desperate and soft. You married a white guy, had two kids.
I stole a man’s dog, ran away to Alaska.
The man followed but the dog died.
Evenings I walk the beach, wind bleeding my lips.
I haven’t thought of you in years.
Cinthia Ritchie is an Alaska writer, ultra-runner, and three-time Pushcart Prize nominee. Find her work at New York Times Magazine, Evening Street Review, Sport Literate, Rattle, Best American Sports Writing, Mary, Into the Void, Clementine Unbound, Deaf Poets Society, Forgotten Women anthology, Nasty Women anthology, Gyroscope Review, Bosque Literary Journal and others. She’s a 2013 Best American Essay notable mention, and her first novel, “Dolls Behaving Badly,” was published by Hachette Book Group.
I was born and went to school. Then I got a job and now I’m retired.
Writing a memoir isn’t that easy when you’ve nothing to say.
Here’s the plan: Do something memorable.
Top of the list: kidnap Donald Trump and cut off his hair.
That ought to do it.
Henry lives in Somerset in the UK, which is at the moment still part of the European Union. He eats a lot of toast.
Their mud hut was shaded by thick plantain and banana trees.
It was still raining heavily. There were no mosquitoes so the windows were open; free air-conditioning.
She slept soundly on her bamboo mattress.
The town crier’s talking drum was muffled, so she didn’t hear she was the new widow.
Una Nina Nine plays life with her husband and family in Nigeria but is yet to meet “that” prince.
Surgeons can spend up to twelve hours working in the operating theatre. Strange indeed to call that “theatre.”
Or perhaps it’s merely human nature to adopt a pastime that sounds like glory on the mountaintops when all we ever do is hope that we can make it through the hardship.
Living in a mid-sized town at a hipster shop was nice for Isaiah, but he’s happy to try his hand at working in the big city! But now things are getting tedious. Writing is always a good hand, no matter the game. Though that might not hold up in Texas Hold ‘Em, which Isaiah is practising.
The idea arose when Sophia’s father said her smile was more beautiful than Mona Lisa’s.
After retiring from grade school, she used her savings to go to Paris, where she wandered through the Louvre until she found it.
Staring at Leonardo’s masterpiece, she could only think, “Wow. It’s so small.”
Ran Walker is the author of sixteen books. He serves on the creative writing faculty of Hampton University in Virginia.
Every summer we haul grandpa’s ashes down to the beach and listen to the crashing surf.
The roar reminds us of grandpa’s grumbling groans after a long day’s work.
When the tide recedes, the shoreline resembles a long stretch of freshly poured cement, waiting to be troweled, skimmed perfectly smooth.
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.