The weepy mother sits on the bed, closes her eyes, and plays pretend.
Dust no longer chokes the room. Sunlight softly trickles in.
Fate hasn’t supervened her promises to him of future magical milestones.
With a heavy sigh, she begrudgingly opens her watering eyes. The suffocating emptiness settles once more.
Kelly McSherry is a young author who currently resides in Washington, D.C.
The story of the week for June 17 to 21 is…
Bracing for impact by Lesley Warren
It was a foolish thing to do. Not the crime, but the full confession I wrote in my diary. Its gilt-edged pristine pages tempted the truth out of me.
Then I lost my diary.
My heart pounds. How did it end up on eBay? And who has just outbid me?
Suzan Lindsay Randle writes flash fiction, short stories and pocket novels. She lives in the UK.
After a rush to exfoliate and color away years of children and scour closets for outfits inappropriate for soccer practice, they crash into a Vegas hotel room, where, in a flash of giddy consensus, they dump their over-stuffed bags and non-sensible shoes, order room service, draw blackout curtains, and sleep.
Robin LaVoie is presently sweating in the suburbs of Phoenix, Arizona. She writes personal essay and creative nonfiction on her Substack publication, It’s Like This, and her work has appeared in print and online, including Monday Coffee and Other Stories of Mothering Children with Special Needs (Inwords Press, 2013), Pentimento Magazine, BarBar, and NonBinary Review.
One look at her face and his insides shriveled.
No smile, no inquiries about the day. No coffee either, as other things were brewing.
Loaded with conjectures, he waited for the explosion.
The cockroach behind the bedroom door that was slammed shut, saved the day.
Sweetly, she sought his help.
V Vaidehi is an aspiring writer based in India who writes travel memoirs and short/micro-stories at vvaidehi.wordpress.com and whose work has been published by Brilliant Flash Fiction and The Centifictionist.
There are two ways to make an audience cry: an all-male group of seniors singing “Unchained Melody,” and six-year-olds performing “Amazing Grace.” Innocence and anguish, love and loss. The beauty of childhood and age. The old will speak of love and the very young atone for sins not yet committed.
Carol Berger is a Canadian anthropologist and writer. Her work has appeared in the London Review of Books, The Guardian, The Economist, and The New Yorker. She is the author of The Child Soldiers of Africa’s Red Army (London: Routledge 2022). She lives in Cairo, Egypt.
Six months ago, my husband went missing, never to return. That is, until a few days ago when he came home. Today, I can’t sleep, because I know the man sleeping next to me could not possibly be the husband I had buried in the backyard six months ago.
J A Allison lives on the outskirts of society where he finds inspiration deep in the Heart of Texas.
The man who runs my morning coffee cart drives past me while I am waiting to cross the street. He makes a fleeting joke out the window, mostly lost to the wind. But I laugh anyways, amazed and happy to be reminded that I exist in the eyes of others.
Star Fitzmaurice is a recent NYU graduate just trying to make the best out of her apartment’s square-footage. She writes, draws, knits, crochets, and does any creative activity you can think of. If she doesn’t yet, give it time.
I stood on the edge of the cliff with my arms wide open, my eyelids filtering the last glow of the dying sunset. His arms wrapped around my love handles, and his pointy beard rubbed against my cheeks. He whispered, “It’s too late.”
I woke up wearing a black dress.
Ruchi Acharya, hailing from the vibrant city of Mumbai, India, is a visionary in the literary world. As the founder and driving force behind Wingless Dreamer, a dynamic publishing company, she is dedicated to nurturing and promoting fresh, creative voices. With a deep passion for storytelling and a commitment to quality literature, Ruchi has established Wingless Dreamer as a haven for writers and readers alike. Her work continues to inspire and shape the literary landscape, one dream at a time.
The hospital vending machine drones an accompaniment to the febrile bouncing of my foot: rubber kissing laminate.
You could be anywhere by now.
When I tip my head back, I see stars: souls trading places, a life for a life. We should be out there, where the air tastes sweet.
A translator by trade, Lesley Warren lives for language. Born to Welsh and Filipino parents and now resident in Germany, her work encompasses themes of identity, displacement and “otherness”. Her poetry and prose have been published in a number of digital and print journals as well as appearing in a podcast.