The story of the week for February 26 to March 2 is…
The Garden Path by Sharon Calkin
KATYA DUFT: The Modern Tragedy
She didn’t greet him at home, and when he touched her shoulder, she stared at him with eyes full of tears.
“Sorry I’m so late. The traffic sucked, and my phone died. Is that why…?” he nervously asked.
“Five people unfriended me on Facebook this week!” Then she broke down.
Katya Duft is a translator, interpreter, and language teacher, and enjoys writing short stories, poetry, and her blog Tales from the Bus.
MARK KONIK: A Happy Rejection
Russell walked into his English class and took a seat towards the middle. He wondered what everyone in class thought about his story. It received two likes on Facebook. Hillary walked passed him, stopped and said that his story stunk.
It made Russell smile. They hated Salinger at first, too.
Mark Konik is a writer from Newcastle, Australia. He writes short stories and plays.
VIV BURGESS: Karmic Fallout
“How you get here?”
“Businessman—sold weapons and made a pile. Some collateral damage, but that’s life. Wife drowned me. You?”
“Dictator. Started war, made much money, killed millions until execution. This Hell not so bad.”
Their black carapaces reflect distant mushroom clouds as Earth’s latest inheritors scuttle for shelter.
Viv Burgess thinks her muse needs a pep talk and possibly a good holiday.
TAMSIN SEYMOUR: The Wren
He flits between branches, his jaunty, upturned tail bobbing. I’ve seen him before, but never this close, and never singing fit to burst his tiny heart.
His head twitches left and right. Perhaps he’s just scared, but I need to believe it’s because he’s caught a sideways glimpse of spring.
Tamsin can’t sing or flit, but she’s definitely on the lookout for the end of winter.
SHARON CALKIN: The Garden Path
She dabs vanilla on her wrists, thick, dark and pungent, like her memory of the night before he went to war. His child plays in the garden where they will stroll. He’ll see his son, for the first and only time, his firstborn, bearing another man’s name.
Casualty of war.
Sharon Calkin is a family history writer and poet. She lives in Pasadena, CA.
JUSTIN BENDELL: Consequence
We drank whiskey like sorrow were rare.
Dead’s dead, I muttered, bottle gone dry.
Hog stepped into the firelight, Colt drawn.
Wasn’t us, Billy blurted.
Hog shot him.
Wasn’t us my foot, I said, and drew.
I hadn’t a chance.
I knew it.
Hog knew it.
God hadn’t a clue.
Originally from the Midwest U.S., Justin Bendell lives and teaches in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where he edits the Manzano Mountain Review, co-hosts Point Blank—a podcast about noir, hardboiled, and detective fiction—and records music under various monikers including fuguers cove and Euthanized Horse. His stories and poems have appeared in Meridian, 3:AM Magazine, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Thuglit, Washington Square Review, and more. He loves the desert. See more at justinbendell.com.
IAIN YOUNG: Saturday Morning, Before the Coffee was Ready
Allison didn’t recognize her at first. “…Mom?”
Her mother, impossibly young, stood at the door, a toddler on her shoulder.
“Oh, good,” said her mother. “You’ve turned out okay.” She handed Allison the toddler. “This is you, just barely two. I learned to time travel. I’ll pick her up tomorrow.”
Iain Young used to enjoy time travel, until that one unexpected layover in 1985. Losing his passport didn’t help.
MARSRICK: Savoir-Farce
The presidential cabinet huddled in their murky war room to discuss rejecting the enemy’s offer without escalating tensions.
“Send them an insult disguised as a gift,” said the president, “maybe a box of chocolates-covered ants?”
“One problem,” said a diplomat. “They’re insectivores. They won’t take ants for a no, sir.”
Marsrick is a social worker living in the Midwest. Read more short writings at marsrick.com.
BETH SHERMAN: The Great Barrier Reef is Dying
Seas warming by degrees, growing more acidic, weakening the skeletons of animals and plants. The scientists call it “mass bleaching.”
Giant clams with green dots on their flesh. The hawksbill turtle and hammerhead shark, damselfish and manta ray turn paler, swimming through rippling tendrils of ghost coral.
Nemo seems unaffected.
Beth Sherman received an MFA in creative writing from Queens College, where she teaches in the English department. Her fiction has appeared in numerous publications, including The Portland Review, Sandy River Review, Blue Lyra Review, Panoplyzine, Peacock Journal, 3Elements Review, Gloom Cupboard, The Delmarva Review, Sou’wester, Sinkhole, Compose Journal, Ponder Review and Marathon Literary Review. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and has written five mystery novels.