The grey mask shields her eyes from visions of the children she never had
and scents her dreams with lavender
The ear plugs muffle the whispers of her ghosts
She bites down on a bullet, designed to take the strain
And she lays herself down,
to fight the night.
Jennifer M. Smith lives in Burlington, Ontario.
Who are these senior citizens who surround me?
I see retirees decked out in bifocals and new teeth, but I remember energetic cheerleaders, state football champs, school newspaper reporters.
As we pass phones to share photos of our kids, grandchildren, and pets, we promise to meet again in 10 years.
Roberta tried retiring, but it didn’t work. See more at RobertaJacobson.com
I sit in the family room wearing a hat, surrounded by memories.
Dad was a collector. It started small, with pencils.
One day he came home with beer cans. A new collection was born.
I think he loved his hat collection best.
He died last year, leaving me his treasures.
Candace Kubinec wrote this story.
Happy New Year!
Another resolution to make; another resolution to break…
Perhaps this year will be different?
Yet, as 2017 rolls into 2018, I am mostly happy.
Never the same, one day to the next.
Everyone has bad days…
Wandering off the path, hoping it always leads back.
Michelle is a contributing author in the most recent Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Spirit of Canad
a. Her writing has won several awards, and appeared in The Globe and Mail
and a number of local magazines and newspapers in Alliston and Barrie. She has a monthly series in the Focus 50 + Newspaper based on her short story “Lightning Strikers.” You can find her online at michelledinnick.com
Endless pots of coffee drunk. Countless pages gorged upon, regurgitated, wept over. Knowledge tested and realized. Credits accumulated. She reached the end of the text only to find a perplexing blank page.
They call her name. The tassel dangling from the mortarboard throws her off-balance as she traverses the stage.
Kara Johnson-Martinez is a freelance writer and novelist based in Colorado. For a preview of her fiction visit kararochelle.com.
I can’t turn my back on you, even though we’re now strangers.
Once you were brave and clever. Your body gave me pleasure, comfort and delight.
Now your limbs tremble. Your mind wanders. The strong man is a lost boy.
In sickness and in health. Until death do us part.
Lucia Saja wrote this story.
Taking off her eponymous heels, Spanx, push-up bra, contoured make-up, doll-face lashes and hair extensions, she complained bitterly that he wasn’t honest with her, while, oblivious to irony, he admired his reflection in his favourite mirror, applauding his own insight on the importance of artistic integrity in the New West.
Kai Gaitley is an English student in Hilo on the Big Island of Hawaii who understands that an obvious reference is only obvious if you lived through Madchester too.
Muncie Singleton always sent the kids to school with a baked spud and three strips of thick-cut bacon. On their birthdays, Muncie replaced their usual hand-churned butter with store-bought.
When Muncie ran out of bacon, it took all day to restock. But the same errand eliminated one annual shopping trip.
boomer trujillo’s parents never sent him to school with homemade lunches. He’s sure that’s because they loved him. Check out his writing at boomert.info
She’d saved her wedding whiskey for a special occasion.
Not for her honeymoon.
Not for her 25th anniversary.
Not even for her 50th anniversary.
Now he was on his deathbed.
She reached into the cupboard, pulled out the bottle, and cracked it open. “To happiness,” she said, raising her glass.
Linda writes for both children and adults. She blogs at lindaschueler.com
My memory’s broken, I’ve concluded. Storytellers return vividly to their pasts. I only remember remembering, the images grainier with each mental photocopy.
“Daddy!” the girl screams, nose crusted. She tugs my leg and flaps her arms.
I frantically shuffle though reams of fading prints. The ink smudges before it dries.
Andrew Dunn is a journalist and writer in Charlotte, N.C.