On Grandma’s swaying porch, feet planted firmly on the top step, I feel her smile, hear her laugh, see her wrinkled eyes. Screen door swings on rusty hinges and I smell her famous peach cobbler.
“Well, come on,” mother says and I walk in, past the reverend with the urn.
A-Jae is a storytelling wordsmith who writes literary fiction and creative nonfiction, both the truth and otherwise. She is currently working on her first novel and an MFA at SF State. Find out more about her at ajaewoodberry.com.
The ground was so hard they could not dig a grave.
“We could wait until spring,” said Jack, his toes frozen.
“Or take her someplace warmer,” said Julia, her breath frosted.
Father smiled. “Or we could build a fire.”
The children looked at each other. “Father knows best,” said Julia.
Paul Negri has twice won the gold medal for fiction in the William Faulkner-William Wisdom Writing Competition. His work has appeared in Vestal Review, The Penn Review, PIf Magazine, Penny Shorts, and many other publications. He lives and writes in Clifton, New Jersey.
That is a photo of my girlfriend; it was the last good day she had before she died.
She doesn’t look sick, but she was. That wasn’t going to stop her doing what she wanted to do. She had spirit.
How do you get used to losing someone like that?
Susan Cornford is a retired public servant living in Perth, Western Australia. She has pieces published or forthcoming in 50-Word Stories, Akashic Books, Antipodean Science Fiction, CarpeArte Journal, Fewer Than 500, Ghost Parachute, Medusa’s Laugh, Speculative 66, Subtle Fiction, Switchblade, The Fable Online, The Gambler, and The Vignette Review. She considers herself an emerging flash writer.