My legs beg me to stop but we must keep running. Sharp winds cut and pierce my skin. The snow makes this difficult.
“Keep running! Save yourself!”
An entire pack approaches: thundering hooves, glimmering eyes. His grip loosens. Menacing eyes and white breath envelop me.
I know what comes next.
Estefania Jomant is a student studying Advertising with a minor in Psychology at the University of Miami. Her website is: www.estefaniajomant.com.
A lonely ache lives in your chest, shoving things out of the way to make room. It’s hard to breathe now. It grows. Gains teeth.
Soon, it begins to gnaw away at your heart. It is fortunate it chose that, for it is the thing you will miss the least.
Anna Piaia is a lover of both words and history. She lives in Philadelphia, where both are plentiful. You can see her ramblings at annadelphia.com.
I see a homeless lady standing. Her sweater hangs loosely from her frame.
A man walks near her. He gives her a cigarette.
Her hair looks like dying grass.
I look at the leaves falling slowly, and I want to bury each one as if they were a loved one.
Jorge B. Valdes Jr., an SFA graduate student, lives in East Texas and contributes to movie, film, and book reviews for the Horrorzine, having contributed to their anthology, “Feast of Frights.” On his time off, he tries to ponder reality, and the reality of truly being and enjoying things. Valdes is happily married and has 2 wonderful dogs named Corben and Shadow.
At Heaven’s gate:
“Wish, and I would grant it.”
“No ifs and buts?”
“Just that.”
“I wish to become the one and only Lord of all.”
And the next moment was of omnipresence, omnipotence and omniscience.
And He could recollect him and the others, asking Him to be the Lord.
Novel Martis is an amateur writer who likes to write about ideas and incidents. His work can be found at novelmartis.wordpress.com.
For her, each day dissolves into the next, like a sugar cube in hot water. Instinctively she clings, grabs, and clutches to the remains of her earlier self. Memories assemble in a dense haze of déjà vu.
Little-by-little, piece-by-piece, bit-by-bit she forfeits what made her sweet and solid. She dissipates.
Stephanie Glover is a professional juggler. Just kidding. Not a literal juggler, but she does juggle in the figurative sense. Stephanie is a full time student, employee, mother, and wife. In addition, she pursues her passions of writing and photography. Most often she can be found planting idea seeds in the little book she carries in her purse, or releasing the shutter on her beloved camera.
“Frederick, your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired.”
He turned to encounter Miss Stone, aged some, but sharp-tongued as ever.
“Your patient is my twin sister who fell ill yesterday.”
“B-B-But,” he stuttered.
“You thought it was me in the wheelchair?” she interrupted.
“Two of them?” he thought.
John B Sinclair is a much-travelled Scot who has now returned to Scotland, where he enjoys freelance writing on a variety of subjects.
Editor’s Note: This story is a sequel to Payback.
“I’m bored, Watson. I need something to investigate. Did anything of more than casual interest arrive in the post?”
“There’s a letter from Inland Revenue. They’re going to audit your tax return.”
“Why would they?”
“I’m a doctor, Holmes, not an accountant. My guess is you made too many deductions.”
John H. Dromey has had a short story published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, a mini-mystery in Woman’s World, plus fiction online at Liquid Imagination, Mysterical-E, and elsewhere.
He found her orange flats in the closet under his boots. That’s when he gave in to letting her go. Each lung breathed in the worn leather and forced it back out along with shared memories, stacked as weakened bricks already crumbling.
He was meant to feel each one fall.
Tamra Artelia Martin received her MFA in creative writing from the University of Central Florida. An overachiever at heart and a glutton for academic punishment, or academic joy depending on the day, she’s currently earning her second MFA in stage and screen writing at Lesley University. Check out her blog on writing at http://writerschai.blogspot.com/.
“Three pitchers of beer, eight shots of bourbon, one white wine spritzer, one cosmop… Oh great! GUYS! They already said no nudity in the bar. What? What? Yeah, calm down buddy, we’re going already. Three bars already. You’d think they could stay dressed for one drink! Yeah, okay, we’re gone.”
Stuart is absent without leave from the majority of life and finds that writing helps him remain that way — he occasionally blogs a story at www.diamondsanddross.blogspot.com.
“Baby’s scared,” Sheila taunted.
“Am not!” The staunch denial lost cohesion in Alex’s trembling lip as he stood atop the big boy’s silver speedster. He pushed off, flew through the metal corkscrew, and burst from the chute.
Fists pumping, grin spreading, he stuck his tongue out at Sheila. “Am not!”
Suzi Harris is a retired technical writer working on her first novel while living in Nashville, TN with her Canadian husband and two psychotic cats.