The story of the week for May 18 to 22 is…
Start Over by Daniel Clark
DEBBI ANTEBI: Unsafe
Three years had passed since the virus lockdown, and she ached to go outside.
Every morning she put on her shoes, only to turn back at the doorstep.
Still not safe, she thought, though the media said otherwise. What if she walked into a deep cough or an explosive sneeze?
Debbi Antebi (@debbisland) lives in London, UK, with her husband and books.
MICHAEL DREZIN: The Brain that Won’t Turn Off
Sometimes I get an idea at 2:00 in the morning, and I have to write it down or else I’ll forget it.
That happens to other people, too.
When it happens to me, I have to sleep late on the weekends.
And that is the real reason I don’t exercise.
Michael practices law in the Bronx, writes short stories on the side, and has been published in Fiction On The Web.
DANIEL CLARK: Start Over
She finished the jigsaw. Broke it up. Knitted a scarf. Unpicked it.
Life goes on and on and on, whether she wants it to or not. She doesn’t. She wants to jump into infinity, close her eyes, close her mind, close the box.
She opens it. Fits two pieces together.
Daniel Clark is a writer who dabbles in many forms and styles. His micro fiction has been published on 101words.org and is forthcoming in Dreams Walking.
JO WITHERS: Relationship Landmarks
Hillock – Lingering glances at waitress. Your phone number secretly scrawled on the bill.
Bridge – Flowers, expensive dinners. Breathless streams of fragile promises.
Church With Spire – Expected. Drunken proposals, forgotten by morning.
Mountain – Personal trainer, more than once, while I was pregnant.
Quarry – Pit. The deep, dark realisation you’d never cared.
Jo Withers writes short fiction from her home in South Australia. Recent work appears in Reflex Fiction, NFFD Anthology and Best Microfictions 2020.
MICHAEL DE LA PENA: The Call to Agriculture
A victorious army marched upon the capital.
As crowds came out to exalt the old general, the green-eyed and white-knuckled king clutched his crown. In the general’s honor, he arranged for a feast spiked with aconite.
However, the general had already made his escape, and elsewhere, a farmer came home.
Michael De la Peña’s parents blame his near-sightedness on the fact that he has always had his nose buried in a book since the age of nine. However, he still has a clear view of all the myriad of designs that bounce around inside his head, and his daydreams, permutations of each mental blueprint. He is often elbow-deep in his latest project with his brow furrowed.
LISA WALLIN: Touch Me
George sits in his pitch-black room, his pallid face lit by the flickering computer screen. He runs his left hand along his right forearm to remember the feel of human touch on his skin. He smiles at the person who touches his heart on the screen. It’s okay. It’s enough.
Lisa is a Tokyo-based writer who loves coffee, dogs, and talking about Terrace House.
SHARON GERGER: Bear!
I give him a teddy bear and tell him it will keep him company, someone to talk to, while I work.
He returns him minutes later, saying the bear won’t stop talking about scratching his bum on trees and digging for bugs.
Such is life in quarantine with my husband.
Sharon Gerger loves to write and play more than she likes to work.
CRYSTAL ELLWOOD: Drug Testing Required
Month-old pinpricks in the ditch of her arm, her chip outlined in the tight khaki of her back pocket. Her sponsor says the next step is a job. Applications, follow-ups, interviews. They smile at her. She smiles back. The job is hers, but “drug testing is required.”
She leaves again.
Crystal Ellwood is currently an English professor at both New England College and Cumberland University in Lebanon, TN. Her work is forthcoming in HauntedMTL’s 101 Proof Horror anthology and The Spectre Review.
MANDIRA PATTNAIK: This is Not a Cinderella Story
The fairy godmother appears
And disappears
The willow wilts, until another noon
Intimate details of a concealed life
Become clearer
Bright days encroach on moonless night
Yet, no prince knocks—
she never gave anyone shoes to wear.
You knew this wouldn’t last;
Then she lost her job at the dressmakers’.
Mandira Pattnaik is an Economics graduate who lets her degree gather dust while she word-weaves. Some of those pieces have made their way into Spelk, Lunate, Gasher, Star82, and fiftywordstories. She tweets at @MandiraPattnaik.