In the morning fog, the ocean bleeds into the sky like a watercolor painting. Below, Daeidra walks the sandy shore alone. She has forbidden me to accompany her.
A solitary tear trickles down my cheek as I watch her embrace the waves and dissolve into a spray of sea foam.
Devon R. Widmer is a grumpy graduate student by day, a scribbling daydreamer by night, and a sleep-deprived parent full-time.
Cuddles. An order.
Cuddles? The robot paused, processing.
A brief demonstration.
A jerky imitation. Processing again.
I do not understand. You want to remain in contact with my exterior form. Why?
The question hung in the air.
Perhaps a chemical analysis of oxytocin was in order.
The thought of a fledgling artificial intelligence trying to learn the ways of humans has always amused Jenora. This is a story about the merging of the undefinable with the empirical. If you’d like to see more of Jenora’s work, pop along to her website at openingdoorsofperception.com
After two years longing for her love, finally she loved him back. Their last encounter was really painful:
“Are you leaving?” she asked.
“Yes. Would you give me a kiss?”
And so she did.
He stared at her picture and sighed. His little toddler niece was turning three in April.
José Jaime is a Spanish guy who misses his nieces.
She was living in darkness; he introduced her to sunshine. But in the light she could see the darker side he was trying to hide.
She didn’t know whether the future would be different or a replica of the past; she was trapped amidst the present, which was fading fast.
Preeti Singh is an Indian French Interpreter and Media Professional who is engaged in writing scripts. In her free time she loves to play sundry characters for television series.
You were my rebound love.
You galloped into my heart with flanks rippling.
It wasn’t long before our hearts beat wildly and our bodies entwined.
Surprisingly, it took a while for reality to set in and for me to know that you, the ferocious stallion, didn’t know love at all.
Pat St. Pierre is a freelance writer of poetry, fiction, and nonfiction for adults and children. Her third poetry book “Full Circle” was published by Kelsay Books. Her work has appeared both online and in print. You may find some of her work at: Three Line Poetry, 50 word stories, Fiction 365, Whisperings, A Long Story Short, etc. She is also an amateur photographer whose photos have won awards and been on the covers and included in online and print magazines. Her blog is pstpierre.wordpress.com
Barry had two left feet. No girl would dance with him twice.
Susie stood forlornly by the wall. She blushed when he asked her.
When the music started, she trod on his toes, and he apologised.
Years later, they reminisce about their first and last dance, still in perfect step.
K. S. Dearsley has an MA in Linguistics and Literature and has had
stories published on both sides of the Atlantic. She lives in Northampton, England, and when she is not writing, she lets her dogs take her for walks. Her fantasy novels are available on Amazon. Find out more at ksdearsley.com.
Emilia passionately claimed that everyone she loved didn’t love her, and vice versa. She knew that true love was tricky, rather like a sort of magic.
Then one day, quite inexplicably, Emilia met Fred. He was busking on a street corner and just happened to pull rabbits out of hats.
Linda is a teacher from Sydney, Australia, who has had plays go from page-to-stage and poems published in both Hemispheres. Once upon a time, she was invited to the same function as Ben Stiller.
He’d built it one summer, with determined hands and failing eyesight. A picnic table for two. Rough-hewn, sturdy—no curlicues or fancy woodworking.
“Silly man,” she said. “We’ll never use it.”
They didn’t; he died that winter.
The next spring, she sat there daily, remembering how much she’d loved him.
As a follow-up to her frivolous and fun career in broadcasting, Sally Basmajian is working on a variety of writing projects. She has won a few prizes for short fiction and creative non-fiction, and has recently completed a beach-worthy women’s novel.
I fell for him like autumn leaves.
Seasons change from green to gold.
My hands shake and my heart beats fast.
He’s the kinetic energy pulling me in and nothing draws me away.
Our worlds collide. I am his and he is mine.
Danielle deems herself witty and enchanting most days. Rumors has it this young women’s charm is genuine and true. She loves rainy days in bed and productive days in the sun. Danielle lives and works for joy and not for the money. She writes to awaken her soul and to avoid unpleasant tasks and people.
This morning, we do the crossword puzzle on the floor, just like we did the day we moved in fiftysome years ago, before we had furniture or the children who will, today, help us move into assisted living. We’re rusty at the clues, but the coffee tastes just as hot.
Ingrid Jendrzejewski grew up in Vincennes, Indiana, and loves cryptic crosswords and the game of go. Recently, she won the Bath Flash Fiction Award. Links to Ingrid’s writing can be found at ingridj.com and she occasionally tweets @LunchOnTuesday.