It was the job of Sharon’s dreams. The interviewer rattled off a string of easy questions: “Professional goals?” “College grades?”
Then… “Any personal hobbies?”
Sharon squirmed. Should she tell him about the three bodies buried in her backyard?
A long pause. “Um, I garden,” Sharon responded. “White lilies, white mums.”
Roberta Beach Jacobson won first place in the Iowa Poetry Association’s 2020 competition for her haiku.
Such meticulous planning: poignant prayers, elegant oak casket, extravagant flowers. All ruined.
Overlooking the river from the flower-adorned hill, the plot I picked had guaranteed eternity with a view.
And what did those imbeciles do? Lowered me in backwards. Now I face eternity gazing uphill at my own rotting feet.
Jenn is a former English teacher who has only recently entered the world of writing. She decided to begin with flash fiction and has quickly fallen in love with the crafting of very short stories. Jenn is a Scot based in Manchester, UK.
The story of the week for July 6 to 10 is…
Fate and Folding Laundry by Cherly Caesar
I cast one last glance at the phone, still dark on the bedside table. My heart ached for it ring; my body willed it to stay silent. I let myself slip into the embrace of another, and watched the distance between us stretch beyond what two lost souls could repair.
Patrick Eades writes stories about people who are misunderstood, whose voices don’t get heard despite having something important to say. He has worked in the healthcare industry for nearly a decade, giving him a perspective into life, death and everything in between. His work is soon to be published in Idle Ink and Scarlet Leaf Review. He lives sandwiched between the National Parks of southern Sydney with his wife and dog, and has appeared in one film, where he played a drunken boxer with a strong dislike of DJs who think they can sing. He can be found at patrickeades.net.
We are folding laundry together when my husband holds up a piece of cloth. “What’s this?” he says.
“Just a rag,” I say.
He puts on a little squeaky voice, pretending to be the rag. “I used to be something!” he protests.
“We all did,” I reply.
We fall silent.
Cheryl Caesar lived in Paris, Tuscany and Sligo for 25 years; she earned her doctorate in comparative literature at the Sorbonne and taught literature and phonetics. She now teaches writing at Michigan State University. Last year she published over a hundred poems in the U.S., Germany, India, Bangladesh, Yemen and Zimbabwe, and won third prize in the Singapore Poetry Contest for her poem on global warming. Her chapbook Flatman: Poems of Protest in the Trump Era is now available from Amazon and Goodreads. See more at caesarc.msu.domains.
The Story of the Month is chosen from the Story of the Week winners announced from the past month.
The finalists for June were:
Still Thirsty by Melanie Maggard
Smoothness Forever by Ben Fitzgerald
Brothers by Jayne Martin
In Memoriam by Thad DeVassie
Whodunnit by Kate Fellowes
The winner of the June 2020 Story of the Month, and the $10 prize, is…
In Memoriam
The indirectness of Thad’s story adds so much depth, leading the reader to emotion and message in a wonderfully subtle example of “show, don’t tell”.
I get home from work. My dog leaps into my arms and I bask in his unconditional love. I think, Dogs are great, but I’m glad I’m a superior animal.
I sit and flip on the TV: racism, rioting, and Tiger King.
I look back at my dog.
Am I?
Joshua Addison resides in the foothills of Appalachia where he attempts to write historical fiction. Occasionally between bouts of writer’s block he attempts to put together something that resembles a micro-fiction.
On the street, strangers quickly glance away. At the mirror, the ravaged face smiles, because the mass of angry red splotches says the chemo attack, the destroyer, is working. Hurt vanity—and it is hurt, no question—has lost its hallowed standing to the incomparable treasure of a longer life.
Marilyn McFarlane is on hold from travel writing and takes pleasure in writing and reading the gems in fifty-word stories. She’s the author of Sacred Stories: Wisdom From World Religions, for children, and The Healthy Seniors Cookbook, for any age.
At night, her mother put her to bed by telling her stories of cotton candy clouds and a winged unicorn named Percival. She dreamed she was flying on Percival, occasionally trotting along various rainbows. Heaven couldn’t be that far away, she figured. She could sense her father waving to her.
Ran Walker is the author of 21 books, the most recent of which is CAN I KICK IT?: Sneaker Microfiction and Poetry. He lives in Virginia with his wife and daughter.
It is always evening in my room. One wall has a painting, the winter cove, water now grey blue, cliffs dominant. Black ideograms; strong cursive brush strokes; the characters telling a story I don’t need to understand.
I go there as they lock down my radiotherapy mask again.
Helen is an experimental Artist and Writer based in South Wales, U.K.