When I saw the twinkle in his eyes, I was his, forever more.
It took him only nine years to realize he felt the same about me.
Marriage; a son; joys and sorrows.
On our Silver Anniversary, I fall in love again whenever I see that twinkle in his eyes.
Irene is the Firefox Developer Content Manager. She spends her days writing content for web developers and her evenings and weekends writing very short stories.
The pebble was perfect—smooth, oval, and just the right weight.
Sally picked it up from where it lay nestled snugly and warm among the other stones on the beach. She skimmed it and counted: “Seven, eight, nine… Not bad.”
The pebble sank into the ocean and started over again.
Patrick Mc Loughlin is an English Language Teacher in Ireland who dabbles in writing. He also dabbles in painting and music and someday hopes to do more than dabble. He lives in the west of Ireland, where it’s hard to concentrate.
Mrs. Woodham committed her Japanese garden to memory as the moving van swallowed the last of her furniture. The driver ambled over and hefted the five-gallon ceramic planter beside her walker.
“All set, Miss Margaret. The tree rides up front?”
She smiled at the gnarled cherry branches overhead and nodded.
Elizabeth Spencer Spragins is a poet, writer, and editor who taught in community colleges for more than a decade. Her tanka and bardic verse in the Celtic style have been published in Europe, Asia, and North America. Recent work has appeared in the Lyric, Blueline, Borrowed Solace, Ariel Chart, and Page & Spine. The Language of Bones, a collection of her bardic verse, is scheduled for publication by Kelsay Books in summer 2019.
We’d ride uphill past the tavern in Poppy’s ancient Cadillac. I pictured a tuxedo-clad Ricky Ricardo crooning love songs to Lucy, twirling on the dance floor, backed up by a big band. I’d wave to the hollow-eyed scratching junkies slouched against the wall. They’d wave back, baffled by the attention.
Sara Jacobelli lives in New Orleans where she works in a public library and teaches writing workshops. Her flash fiction, flash nonfiction, and short stories have been published in various places, including the New York Times Metropolitan Diary.
Her recorder, smaller than she remembers it, now covered with a decade’s worth of dirt.
She wipes off the mouth, lifts it to her lips. A sighing sound burdens the breeze as her breath stumbles through.
Somehow her fingers find the holes with ease and tap out a hollow melody.
Prisha is a high school student who aspires to be a successful author one day. You can find out more about her at prishamehta.com.
Winds whisper the sounds and sights of fall; fading flowers and falling leaves.
Dancing shadows slip away at dusk to appear again in the chilly dawn.
Golden wheat fields fall to the force of gobbling combines.
The Meadow Lark’s song signals change.
The harvest moon fills the night with mystery.
Charlotte McElroy is an 80-year-old retired teacher. She is finally following her dream: writing!
Armed with her vintage Leica camera, she is convinced she can stop the passage of time, moments forever captured on film like flies in amber.
But despite her efforts, the clock persists.
Nest now emptied, she seeks solace in eighteen years of yellowed photographs.
Johannah Lipscher Simon is a professional ideator who writes and speaks on the power of living a creative life. See more at thewritingtype.com.
When she died, she left behind her stunning wardrobe, rows of hangers full of brand-new, high-quality clothes, silk scarves, designer handbags and shoes, most still with the tag on.
Most of the exquisite pieces had been hanging there for years, still unworn, being saved for later, for a special occasion.
Caroline Couderc is a multilingual writer and translator living in Switzerland and the UK. She has degrees in French Literature, Linguistics, and Cultural Anthropology. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Boston Literary Magazine, War, Literature and the Arts, Shotgun Honey, The Airgonaut, The Antigonish Review, and more. You can find her online at beautyisasleepingcat.com.
Drops of time
Flow from the tap of life
Ever so slowly, at first
Then more quickly
Today they are a steady flow
My life is a force
I cannot slow down
As it races toward the unknown
I know it will run dry
Then I will only have goodbyes
Mary has written poetry since age ten and continues to write poems and short stories of human interest.
She was a memorist, holding onto the collective experiences of an entire generation.
We all depended on her for our memories—faces in scrapbooks, grandma’s favourite recipes, names of distant relatives.
On the day she died, all she remembered faded away and her family was left with only a void.
Candace Kubinec posts her stories at storydribbles.wordpress.com and her poetry at rhymeswithbug.com.