BOB THURBER: POWWW (Prisoner of World Water War)

Adventure, Submissions, ,

You’re free to go. Although we have video of you siphoning from government tanks, a benefactor pleaded for your release. A rain-master. He spoke highly of your value, said he’d known you before the conflict, before the oceans seeped salt into every freshwater source, contaminating every lake, stream, and reservoir.

Bob Thurber is the author of “Paperboy: A Dysfunctional Novel” and four collections of short fiction. Regarded as a master of Flash and Micro Fiction, his work has appeared in Esquire and other magazines, been anthologized 60 times, received a long list of of awards, and been utilized in schools and colleges throughout the world. He resides in Massachusetts. Visit his website at BobThurber.net.

JOHN H DROMEY: The Nature of Memory, or Vice Versa

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

Two hyperactive squirrels chitter-chattered as they scampered around a picnic table.

“I’m disappointed,” one remarked. “Our old homeplace is not at all like I remember it from when we were kits.”

“I agree,” the other replied. “It seemed to be so much taller before it lost its leaves and bark.”

John H. Dromey’s short fiction has been published in Mystery Weekly Magazine and over one-hundred-fifty other venues.

SOL IBAÑEZ: Music and Masquerade

Adventure, Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

It began with masked nobles contained within castle walls, like pigs in the slaughterhouse. The music was mostly ignored, but if they listened closely, they would’ve wondered how something so elegant and refined can speak of death and chaos so lightly.

It began with music and masquerade.

Then massacre followed.

Sol Ibañez is a writer and illustrator quietly residing on an archipelago in Southeast Asia.

COLIN LUBNER: Johari’s Mirror

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

Knew a dude named J. Just the letter. And I didn’t know him. Not really. Told me a theory: people become interesting when they become unknown. Not just to others—to themselves.

He left town soon after.

Maybe he’s come back since. I wouldn’t know; I left soon after him.

Colin Lubner writes (in English) and teaches (math) in southern New Jersey. His work has either appeared or will appear, temporally speaking. He is keeping on keeping on.

SAMANTHA FAELLA: The Last Generation

Adventure, Artistic, Submissions, , ,

My children are always curious to look at pictures of my childhood, the days before The Change.

“Mommy, what are you eating in that picture? Is that real fruit?”

Humanity’s plight on earth might’ve started with the bite of an apple, but sadly, it wouldn’t get to end with one.

Samantha is a reluctant 50-word author who write this to prove something to her mother and grandfather. She is a fierce advocate regarding climate change and our planet.

ALYSSA MINAKER: Anniversary

Submissions, Touching, , , ,

The ends of the umbrella flap irregularly in the wind like an injured bird. Stones jab my ribs and spine as the Atlantic splashes between my thighs. Mom’s been gone two years, yet I am here, on her favorite beach, surrounded by people who will never mean anything to me.

Alyssa Minaker lives in North Africa with her husband.

BEC LEWIS: Wrong Room

Amusing, Odd, Submissions, Top Stories, ,

I was making notes when the doom opened. A strangler entered.

“Have a seaweed,” the leader said. “We’re all frenzied here.”

After listing to us, the strangler spoke. “Er…”

“Yesterday?”

“I wanted Fantasy Language Class. I’m Dave, by the way.”

“Hello Dave,” the Auto Correct Fan Club chorused in unicorn.

Bec Lewis lives in Kent, England, and likes short stories, micro-fiction, and chocolate. See more at beclewisfiction.com.

MIRIAM N KOTZIN: Covid-19 2020

Artistic, Submissions, , , , , ,

The young father presses his hands flat against the window. Although the mask covers half his face, the baby knows him. New game. Laughing, she reaches for the father’s hands, cool glass between them.

She lifts her arms, “Up.” Old game.

The father’s learned the new rules: he turns away.

Miriam N. Kotzin teaches creative writing and literature at Drexel University. Her collection of short fiction, Country Music (Spuyten Duyvil Press 2017), joins a novel, The Real Deal (Brick House Press 2012), and a collection of flash fiction, Just Desserts (Star Cloud Press 2010). She is the author of five collections of poetry, most recently Debris Field (David Robert Books 2017).

HANNAH WHITEOAK: Side Effects

Artistic, Odd, Submissions, , , ,

“Side effects,” says the oncologist. The priest says angels have many forms.

In my garden, the unicorn eats my red roses, dripping petals like blood. “Am I dying?” I ask. She snorts, then gallops away.

Next summer, the roses bloom white. My hair grows back curly. The unicorn doesn’t return.

Hannah Whiteoak writes speculative fiction to escape the real world. She is working on an animal-themed flash collection. Follow @HannahWhiteoak or visit hannahwhiteoak.me.