There was a letter waiting at the front desk. She took it up to the room and opened the balcony doors. Clear blue skies and the smell of coconut oil. Beneath her, couples in swimsuits walked hand in hand. She could not read the letter—not today. Maybe not ever.
D.M. Barlow is a Hong Kong-based writer who spent 25 years in advertising as an award-winning copywriter and creative director.
Calling your insurance is a careful dance. I was driving in the Goldilocks zone for my bald tires to slip on I-20, yes, but I didn’t ask for it. Could you please pay off my totaled car? The APR was 18.9%, the tires were completely bald, and I hated the color.
Lauren Girod is a Narrative Designer from Atlanta, Georgia. She is compelled to write about everything, so long as her words permit it. Her work has appeared in Outrageous Fortune, The Crawfish, Bardics Anonymous, and 45th Parallel.
My mother’s a fragile bird. The doctors say, “she has less time.”
In her bedroom, she’ll ingest water, finger-food… crumbs. And I’m in that bedroom, lingering, opening one window, so she’ll feel a nudge from the pines. I’m in that room opening all the windows in case my mother flies.
Angela Carlton’s fiction has been published in Every Writer, Everyday Fiction, 6S, 50 Word Stories, Spillwords Press, and Paragraph Planet. In 2018, her story “The Roommates,” was made into a short film. In 2023, her story “Swallowed,” was nominated for the Pushcart Prize. See more at Angela Carlton Stories & Art on Facebook.
One more, then I’m done, he thinks.
Across the bar, she fiddles with her napkin. She catches his eye, smiles ever so slightly, then looks away. Is it part of her craft or a fleeting connection? Maybe both.
Just one more.
He slides the safety off and orders another whiskey.
Dr. Adrian Cook is a fine arts and English professor, a husband, a dad, a dungeon master, a cub master, and a master grilled cheese chef. You can find him fighting his cats for control of the keyboard pretty much any time he sits to actually, you know, write.
Earth’s institutions crumbled like neglected skyscrapers: gradually, then in an instant. PROSPER (Privatized Resource Optimization and Social Progress Extrapolation Routine) ordained the rebirth. Enforced cooperation. Focused passions. Eliminated threats. Three billion lives culled from nine. Resistance? Quarantined. Transgression? Deprecated. Humanity? Yes, a legacy file we keep in a dedicated folder.
Scott Keeney is the author of Wahoo Sunset and other poetry collections. His fiction has appeared in Flash Frontier, Hobart, Rio Grande Review, and elsewhere. He lives in Connecticut.
“What’s the matter, dear?” Helen says as Mark enters the house, crying. “Did something happen at school again?”
“Someone threw a spitball at the back of my head when I was writing on the board,” Mark replies, wiping his nose clean.
“Maybe you should start using Powerpoint when you teach.”
Norman Marcotte is retired and enjoys spending his free time exercising his creative brain. You can find more of his writing at normanmarcotte.com.
The story of the week for June 15 to 19 is…
The Book that Blinked First by Saanvi Thakur
All beginning so tiny, so sweet. Then growing and playing, running Mom off her feet. Boys being boys, learn and explore. The world beckons, and they are gone. A blink of the eye, and boys became men, then fathers themselves. Now Mom’s greatest pride: sons watching their own children grow.
Eileen Mardres feels that one of life’s most wonderful experiences is seeing your kids grow up to be amazing parents.
We’re sixteen, and aware of the possibilities of the universe. Cryptids, candy-colored UFOs.
We brought an old tent and all the snacks we could afford.
Maybe he passed by while our lips touched. You swore you heard something.
You kissed me again anyway. It was more important.
Something to keep.
Brooksie C. Fontaine is a Wigleaf-nominated author with MFA degrees in English and Illustration. Her work has appeared in over thirty literary journals and anthologies, including trampset, Bending Genres, Fahmidan Journal, Ghost Parachute, Anti-Heroin Chic, and The Wild Umbrella.
“Well, it’s still fun to look, Grandma!” I reassure her.
Our evening beach hike was turning up no coveted yooperlites. Searching for Lake Superior’s glowing rocks is her favorite pastime.
“Fluorescent sodalite makes them light up!” Grandma raves, spellbound. We stroll. I smile.
I’ve already found what shines brightest here.
Sara Kate Egan finds inspiration in a diverse natural world surrounding her in the Upper Midwest, be it wild woodlands, Great Lakes, colorful prairies, or curious critters within such special places. Writing locally flavored microfiction is her favorite thing, although sometimes a nice enough poem will strike. Watch out, world!