The flickering jack-o’-lanterns stand sentry on my porch, but I’ve turned off my light lest any young tricksters trespass. Still, I left some treats in a plastic goblin’s palm with a sign saying “Pick one if you dare.” Sadly, I doubt any will dare tempt the viral Ghost of Halloween.
Marc Littman’s flash fiction has been published in many online magazines and anthologies from 50-Word Stories to The Saturday Evening Post. He also writes plays and novels.
The school reopened. Ava approached her first grade classroom in her iron suit, double pair of blue hospital gloves, face shield that extended to her waist and multi-layered mask that curved around her small face.
Her mother said Ava was lucky. In many states, students were required to stay home.
Eliza Mimski wrote this story.
We don’t know who will be “It” next. No one screams, freezes, then pivots.
Paramedics ushered Mr. Steensaver out in his bathrobe last night, Greta from two doors over today.
Pushing the elevator button could be our downfall. Meeting the FedEx man. How to become invisible from an invisible enemy?
Shoshauna Shy relies on stories and poetry to get through the pandemic. More of her work can be found online at Literary Orphans, 100WordStory, Fiction Southeast, Brilliant Flash Fiction, and lots of other places.
The virus targeted only medical professionals and civil engineers.
No one was left who knew how to figure out why the plague had targeted such a specific population. But that wasn’t the biggest problem: city planning failed, crooked minds prevailed, and before long, the streets were made of monkey bars.
She sneezed into her elbow and wrinkled her nose.
“Blurgh, so gross” she said.
She couldn’t know that the contents of her nasal evacuation had contained a microscopic anti-viral agent, which attacked and destroyed a potentially human-eradicating new virus that had begun to grow on her sleeve.
Lucky for us, eh?
Full disclosure: I’m reading a Tom Clancy novel that involves an Ebola outbreak. Yikes!