The story of the week for October 11 to 15 is…
Legacy by Janet Feldman
ELIZABETH ZAHN: Kitchen Witch
Grandma cooks with me beyond her years. But I’m not always up for her antics. Pots boil over, spice jars spill, and eggs crack inexplicably. Mostly though, I enjoy her presence. Especially today. It’s her birthday. I’m making her favorite: Devil’s Food Cake. She would have turned 107 years old.
Elizabeth Zahn writes from Long Island, NY, for now. Please visit ElizabethZahn.com.
AMY BOHLMAN: Mortal
He’d loved her since their first shift together at The Greasy Chicken, hyper-aware of her presence, her laugh, the twist of blond hair under the net, then smiling at the white deodorant smudge on her tank top which meant maybe she wasn’t a goddess, meant maybe he had a chance.
Amy is a Minnesota-based writer in love with the short form. Find her at ashortgirl.com and on Instagram @ashortgirlwrites.
STORY OF THE MONTH: September 2021
The Story of the Month is chosen from the Story of the Week winners announced from the past month.
The finalists for September were:
The Return by Bob Thurber
Scent of Tears by Katherine Darlington
Fuzzy Blue Socks by Madelyn Markman
Moment by Fiona Kamal
The winner of the September 2021 Story of the Month, and the $10 prize, is…
Moment
I’m a big fan of this story’s juxtaposition of a touchingly cute moment against the sense of real beauty and loss.
CAROL HARVEY: The Void
My mother is alone
Her daughters have flown across continents
to explore fantasies and unearth dreams
Survivor and Swamp Men
fracture the dense silence
My dog, left behind, sleeps all day
His wet nose prods her Solitaire-playing hand
She pushes him away
She pores over singles’ sites
contacting no one
Carol Harvey is intrigued by changes – in life and in the weather. You can find some of her 50-word stories on this site and in The Boston Globe.
ANNE ROKEACH: Finality
Alzh. I cannot yet write that awful word in its entirety. I do not yet want to come to terms with it. It’s too real. It’s headed my way. It’s mine to deal with in its inevitability, its finality.
It’s me. Alzheimer’s.
There, I’ve written it while I still can.
Anne Rokeach has always loved the magic of words. Thanks to the programs of Upstate New York library systems, she has started putting them together in story form.
LAURA DOBSON: Rhaphidophora Tetrasperma
The cardboard package arrives on the doorstep an hour or so before you. Inside, the first fenestrations are just beginning to unfurl.
I shall come to see that the severing of our relationship enabled unbridled growth.
First, I approach the accidental memento with contempt and a pair of glistening secateurs.
Laura lives in London with twenty-four houseplants. This is her fourth 50-word story and she has recent work with The Phare Literary Magazine and Retreat West. She tweets at @laurarose_13.
KEN GOSSE: In the Mood in the Moor
The girl would romp at the edge of the swamp,
for they were quite poor and lived near the moor.
Her beauty attracted a prince who enacted
the role of a frog to entice dialog.
They shared her first kiss—
that’s when his sweet miss
became his betrothed princess frog.
Ken Gosse prefers writing short, rhyming, humorous poetry. First published in First Literary Review–East in November 2016, he is also in The Offbeat, Pure Slush, Parody, Home Planet News Online, and other publications. Raised in the Chicago suburbs, now retired, he and his wife have lived with their dogs and cats in Mesa, AZ, over twenty years.
JANET FELDMAN: Legacy
My sax man blew cool notes — long, sonorous, penetrating, soul-awakening baritone notes. When sated, he smiled at the horn, no piece of molded metal, but a living, breathing partner.
When my sax man died, I sent the horn to someone I’ll never know. In Hong Kong, the bari breathes again.
Janet Feldman is a semi-retired psychotherapist with a journalism background. She currently focuses on short stories with an emphasis on human interaction.
CHARLEY GRAY: Heaven and Hell
Family sits quietly at Dad’s funeral service. Incense burns, calming the nerves. My brothers and sisters have their heads down, praying, I assume. The eulogy reflects on the acceptance of Dad into heaven and his resting in peace. But when family gathers and reads his will, all Hell breaks loose.
Charles is originally from New York and is now retired and residing in Texas with his wife. He likes playing chess and writing flash. Check out his other stories at 101 Words, Friday Flash Fiction, Microfiction Monday Magazine.