The story of the week for October 9 to 13 is…
Grief’s Special Delivery by Connell Wayne Regner
VIV BURGESS: Bloodhound
After my husband’s departure, I acquired a dog for company.
Out walking, Rufus found a body in the woods. The policeman gave him some treats.
He scented the second corpse in the canal.
When Rufus brought back a finger, he had to go.
He’d also started scratching at the patio.
Viv Burgess wonders why dog walkers who find bodies in crime novels never get suspected. There’s a book in there somewhere, but it would take more than 50 words.
PONTIUS PAIVA: Paraskevidekatriaphobia
A black cat dashes across the busy highway. I slam on the brakes.
A siren chirps.
In my broken rear-view mirror, I see the fractured image of a police car. I pull over and the officer approaches my window.
I’m let off with a warning. Must be my lucky day.
Pontius Paiva protects himself every Friday the 13th by eating cereal with mini marshmallows shaped like items commonly associated with good fortune. See more from this superstitious scribbler at pontiuspaiva.com.
MICHAEL HILTON: Stranger
Let him die. The authorities will see. Can you carry the world’s weight with a back full of lead? I see you. Stranger. Will you overthrow them? You tend his wounds, and now you’re the dying one. But another comes. Stranger. Tending your wounds. Perhaps you have overthrown much more.
Michael Hilton lives in Irving, Texas, where he watches a lot of TV.
JENNIFER L FREED: Describe Yourself in Fifty Words or Less
I would rather look at the sky than at a screen. I would rather walk than drive. I would rather drive tree-lined roads than highways. I would rather be alone than at a party. I would rather meet someone one-on-one than try to tell in 50 words who I am.
Jennifer L. Freed was recently irritated by a form that asked too many such questions. She mostly writes poems, sometimes writes short fiction, and always wishes she had more time to write anything at all.
FILLIP VERDUN: Hello
I have been reading all of those stories about some strange creatures invading the Earth from another planet. One politician even says that there is a space war starting.
Don’t believe any of those lies. We are only visiting. We are staying for a long time because we like you.
Usually, Fillip writes in the fields of international politics and economics under a different name. These flash stories are creations in the shower when he can remember ten minutes later what he has composed.
DIANE CALLAHAN: The Bravery of Aitzaz Hasan
At fifteen, the Pakistani boy knew the world was evil.
He saw the stranger outside the school gate, noted the bulge against the man’s chest. Unafraid, the boy stepped forward—and died in the explosion.
His mother cried, but that boy saved hundreds of mothers from crying for their children.
Diane Callahan is a freelance developmental editor and dreamer of fantasy and speculative fiction. Her YouTube channel, Quotidian Writer, provides practical tips for aspiring authors.
STORY OF THE MONTH: September 2017
The Story of the Month is chosen from the Story of the Week winners announced from the past month.
The finalists for September were:
For Judy by Todd Crawford
Mutant by Boomer Trujillo
Anchorless by Mary Haynes
Fourteen by Jennifer L. Freed
The winner of the September 2017 Story of the Month, and the $10 prize, is…
Mutant
Boomer delivered a beautiful ending to an eerie, classically sci-fi setup.
MICHELLE PODSIEDLIK: The Question Is, Do I Want This?
We stared at the sky through broken roof and windows as blue turned to swirling black and back again. The rain would rage, water weeping down walls, filling shoes.
Between each downpour, a run for it would be discussed, but always the storm was back before we dared the attempt.
Michelle Podsiedlik blogs at michellepodsiedlik.wordpress.com and won’t be offended if you can’t pronounce her last name.
CONNELL WAYNE REGNER: Grief’s Special Delivery
He meticulously unwraps it to find an android of his deceased father.
It self-activates and tells him his father uploaded all his memories and emotions before he died. It loads and says, “Son! I’m back!”
He shoves the imposter away.
The android weeps for a moment, then deletes its memory.
Connell writes a bit and then goes to bed.