He lies in the bubbly bath water, face protruding enough to comfortably breathe.
I gently pour water over the soapy hair on his forehead, the bit that didn’t quite make the dive.
He doesn’t flinch.
He smiles at me and I at him.
Today, my baby is a six-year-old fish.
Deirdre is a stay-at-home mom to three young children. She has a degree in English and a Masters in Counselling Psychology.
My terminal patient’s only hope is a kidney transplant.
His estranged adult daughter returns after her mother’s death and agrees to be tested as a potential donor.
The test results cry, “Incompatible match.”
There is no proper way to tell either of them that she is not his biological daughter.
James Menges is a writer and photographer. He is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
At the running trail’s straightaway, I knew I could make my legs pistons, sprint like I was 25, but suddenly Goose-Poop Alley loomed, 100 yards of goopy green and brown sidewalk smudges. I leaped, twisted, quick-minced, and lunged, the ballet dancer I’d never been but was now—magnificently!–at 74.
Paul Lamar lives with his husband, Mark, in Albany, NY, not far from three grown children and two swell grandkids.
The story of the week for September 7 to 11 is…
Drowning by Ran Walker
I warn her not to over-water the plant in the window, but she insists that more water is needed to reach the roots. This is just like her: to do a little too much, to love a little too hard. Just like that plant, one day I, too, will drown.
Ran Walker is the author of 22 books, including the 50-word story collection THE STRANGE MUSEUM. He teaches creative writing at Hampton University in Virginia.
I’m all cozy in bed when the closet door creaks open.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Outside, the wind whips and howls. I recall the earlier news report: Escaped convict, armed and dangerous.
The door’s sliver of darkness stares at me.
Should’ve buried them before calling it a night.
Michelle Wilson graduated from Bennington College with a degree in literature and creative writing. Her words have appeared or are forthcoming in 101 Words, Literally Stories, Flash Fiction Magazine, Lost Magazine, Papierdoll, Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood, Healthcare in America, and The Miami Herald. She lives in Miami Beach, Florida.
The Story of the Month is chosen from the Story of the Week winners announced from the past month.
The finalists for August were:
Kneel by Eric Persaud
I Point at the Shadows in Lieu of What I Dread by Graham Robert Scott
The Lion and the Lamb by Linda Vigen Phillips
Anti-Racism Haiku by Dan Brook
A Lost Moment by Patrick Yu
The winner of the August 2020 Story of the Month, and the $10 prize, is…
I Point at the Shadows in Lieu of What I Dread
So many emotional layers get wrapped into this piece, from the joy and relief of an arrival home to the amusement at a child defending a parent with a Nerf gun, and then the more complex thoughts around the child being afraid of a monster under the bed without the parent home to help, but the child having enough courage to prepare to fight the monster for the parent’s sake. I really love this story.
When her heel snapped, she literally fell into his arms.
Embarrassed laughter, quick smiles, then hasty apologies – she was late. Now hobbled, she’d be even later. Impulse seized him; he called her a taxi, paid for it as she zipped away.
He picked up the broken heel, thinking of Cinderella.
Rebecca Ruvinsky is a student, poet, and emerging writer in Orlando, Florida. She has kept a streak of writing a poem every day since 2016, with her poetry being featured on Poetry on the Move. She loves baking cookies, watching rocket launches, and listening to music too loud. She can be found at @writeruvinsky.
She didn’t need her smile after her husband died, so she gave it to her daughter, who was pregnant. Years later, she looked up to see someone walk through her door. It was her old friend the smile, now with short legs and rosy cheeks.
“Have some cookies,” she said.
C.M.F. Wright writes sentences that occasionally turn into stories. Her short stories have appeared in 50-Word Stories, Syntax & Salt Magazine and the VSS365 Anthology.
The autumn leaves fell in the soft breeze and swirled around Penny’s feet as she trudged down the lane. The world was dying around her, perhaps more so than in years past.
Heart heavy, she chose the biggest acorn, dug a deep hole in the yard, and planted fresh hope.
Lucinda Gunnin is a commercial property manager and author in the western Philadelphia suburbs, looking for hope that 2020 will eventually end.