8,110,424,013 people woke up having dreamed the same dream. Visions of socks, a snowstorm, and chicken manure. Finally, our climate crisis had a solution.
All but one person forgot.
Saving the world was within reach, yet the dreamer crossed that snowy rural highway. The whole world felt those headlights burn.
JR Walsh is the Online Editor at The Citron Review. He teaches creative writing at SUNY Oswego. Find his writing on itsjrwalsh.com.
Alone, finally, in the kitchen, she silences the kettle and settles in the chair. The children sleep. The darkened windows reverberate calm.
He will return soon. The gravel drive will first crinkle and then crunch. The car door will bang; his boots will stamp the porch.
But for now, peace.
Melody Leming-Wilson teaches and writes in Portland, Oregon. Her poetry has recently appeared in Windfall, Poeming Pigeon, and Mojave He[art]. She’s just learning to write 50-Word Stories and finding it therapeutic.
I turn off the news, hands shaking.
Park two doors down, then shoulder through a chaos of cordons and police and media imps to reach home.
Place is in shambles, ransacked by people wearing disposable shoe covers.
Master closet door’s ajar—Swallow fire—the lockbox cracked open—Breathe ash—empty.
Tim Boiteau writes and lives near Detroit with his wife and son.