PHYLLIS RITTNER: The Bully King

Artistic, Submissions, , , , ,

Joey McNeary died and I feel nothing. Should I praise his star athleticism, beaning heads in little league? His gut punches during fire drills? Joey’s obit’s flooded with gushing niceties, his social media bursting with emoji hearts. Survival’s our payback. Yanks us by the throat as we stare back, smile.

Phyllis Rittner has a passion for flash. Her work can be found in Burnt Breakfast, Roi Faineant Press, Versification, Friday Flash Fiction, Fairfield Scribes, Six Sentences and others. She can be reached on Facebook at facebook.com/phyllis.rittner.

MMK: Fireflies

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

It is night. We dance in and out of each other’s hands, frenzied fireflies disoriented by the stars. You had loved me, once. And I, you. But for now we are not entranced by light and can take advantage of what the dark brings.

Day breaks.

You are already gone.

When she is not working, M.M.K. spends her time volunteering, reading, and writing. She considers one of her proudest accomplishments to be taming Mr. Giggles, a feral kitten aptly named for his constant hissing and spitting. He ended up being a total sweetheart.

CAROL TYMANN: Should Old Acquaintance…

Amusing, Submissions, Touching, , , ,

Diana saw Him enter the room… with Her. First time since Their eight years ended. She wanted to run but stayed, coached herself: be brave, be friendly, meet the wife. They’re coming over; breathe… chest out… further out. Here they come, big smile.

And…

There he goes right past her.

Carol Tymann is a retired kindergarten teacher who loves to play with her granddaughter, read, write, cook, and work out.

J ANDREW FIGLEY: A Battlefield Near Paris

Adventure, Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

The priest stared in disbelief across the field of dead and dying. Aside from the occasional cry of pain in the distance, an eerie silence had fallen over the place. He wished he had never heard of this… Earth. He moved on to the next body and performed the rite.

J. Andrew Figley is a writer and poet based in Willard, Ohio. He enjoys a quiet life with his wife, three cats, and dog.

ROBERTA BEACH JACOBSON: Numbers

Submissions, Touching, , ,

Jason’s parents patiently taught him to count his fingers, his toes. In high school Jason counted days to graduation. Later, at game nights with college buddies, he counted two points per basket. Over the years, Jason counted kids (three) grandkids (four). Now, in his senior community, Jason counts his blessings.

Roberta Beach Jacobson is the author of Demitasse Fiction: One-Minute Reads for Busy People (Alien Buddha Press, 2023). She lives in Indianola, Iowa with her husband and three cats.

LAURA BESLEY: All Dressed Up

Artistic, Submissions, ,

On my sixteenth birthday, Mum – her eyes wide and wild – hands me a parrotfish.

Thanks, I mutter.

There’ll be no party, no cake. Just like there’s no money for her meds.

All day I watch it swim back and forth, eyes dull, the sun occasionally catching its bright toxic stripes.

Laura Besley is the author of (Un)Natural Elements, 100neHundred, and The Almost Mothers. She is also an editor for Flash Fiction Magazine. Having lived in the Netherlands, Germany and Hong Kong, she now lives in land-locked central England and misses the sea. She tweets at @laurabesley.

NICK YOUNG: Zen

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

As they walked, Master Cho and his disciple came upon a purple crocus, coaxed forth by April’s showers. The acolyte bent low and plucked a weed away from the dazzling bloom. “You acted without awareness,” scolded the sensei. “Did you not see the exquisite beauty in what you have destroyed?”

Nick Young is a retired award-winning CBS News Correspondent. In addition to 50-Word Stories, his writing has appeared in more than two dozen publications including the Pennsylvania Literary Journal, The Best of CaféLit 11 and Vols. I and II of the Writer Shed Stories anthologies. He lives outside Chicago.

JIMOH ADEIZA ABDULRAHAMAN: Iqbar

Submissions, Touching, , , ,

During Taraweeh, Iqbar grinned at me, revealing two minute incisors.

Keenly, he watched my folded arms, bowings, kowtowings, and muttering of Amins, Allahuakbars.

Iqbar also kowtowed, laughed and clapped, his puerile voice imitating mine: “A-m-i-n, A-ll-ah-u-ak-bar!”

Distracted and smiling, I beseech Allah for forgiveness, and another happy baby, like Iqbar.

Jimoh Adeiza Abdulrahaman writes from Nigeria. He’s a fiction writer who’s passionate about humanity. His works have appeared or forthcoming in 50-Word Stories and SprinNG.

TIM BOITEAU: Widowmaker

Artistic, Submissions, Top Stories, , ,
Widowmaker noun
(‘wi-dō-mā-kər)
that rotten limb hanging off the lofty, half-dead white oak in your backyard, creaking in the wind, detaching fiber by groaning fiber, perched directly above your mindless husband as he chuckles along to his favorite comedy podcast, toiling away in the wormy and fragrant sod, planting forget-me-nots.

Tim Boiteau is a Writers of the Future winner and lives in Michigan.