Blog Archives

Moonlight Drive, by Ethan Blumhorst

15/2/2021

TRAVEL

Heading home from a meal with friends, I wish I had hearing aids so the duties could be abolished.
You were a drunk buffoon, you didn’t back my arguments, the way you ate was utterly disgusting.
Resembles her pillow talk.
After 50 years of verbal masochism I figure would be used to it.
While she continues berating me, I see an almost glowing path to the right of the bridge.
It feels essentially like being lifted by the arms of an angel until we strike the surface.
The cold water begins to fill the car; matching our hearts.

Dinner by Numbers, by Raymond Sloan

15/2/2021

FOOD

Dad spouted that waste was sinful. So, once a week Mum raided the back of the fridge producing his supper. She said, “A sell-by is only a number, Amy.’’

After he ate, Dad would thank us both with a kiss and head off to bed. One hand cradling his bloated belly.

As we listened for the fade of his footsteps, a wry smile trickled across Mum’s face - my cue to go to our secret cupboard and pluck out the menu.

As Mum lifted the phone, I plopped onto her lap and waited as she dialled for our favourite take-out.

Travelers, by Jim Woessner

15/2/2021

TRAVEL

“Hello” and “goodbye” were all that I said. I worried about his dog’s angry eyes and getting too close to the smell of his life. I’m sure he was wearing every article of clothing he owned. He saw that I noticed the book strapped to his bike. “You gotta love that Toni Morrison, doncha?” I nodded. Then he pulled out a map of Texas marked with a squiggly red line. “We’ve been everywhere together,” he said. He showed me a photo of him and his dog somewhere in the desert. I liked him, a man who wasn’t in a hurry.

Country Camper, by Jeffrey Griffiths

15/2/2021

TRAVEL

My sister places Barbie and Ken beside the Country Camper.
Barbie comments that it’s lovely to be on holiday.
Ken looks in the mirror on the closet door. “Some of my hair has chipped off.”
Barbie smiles, “I still love you.” She gets into the camper. “I’ll make lunch.”
“Barb,” Ken taps her shoulder.
She runs her hands over the illustrations of oven controls.
“Barb.”
Barbie turns her head. She blinks her eyes once; the imaginary sound of a violin string plucked by a finger comes and goes. “What is it Ken?”
He points at his mouth, “We can’t eat.”

The Birthday Party, by Tikvah Feinstein

15/2/2021

FOOD

Lynn insisted she wanted to give her single mother the birthday party she never had before moving in with her boyfriend.

The party had been wonderful, but was ending.

Lorna watched Lynn refill her glass, adding some (she thought) “special” wine into it. Lynn calmly handed it back.

As she was announcing her daughter’s engagement, a week in Europe as her wedding gift, Lorna, projectile vomiting, stumbling, with a thunderbolt headache, began moaning “help me.”

She woke alone. It was dark – her on the opposite side of the bed. She would not remember what happened until years later.

Plane-Spotting, by Swapan K Banerjee

15/2/2021

TRAVEL

The train was speeding along at helluva pelt. I was in conversation with a fellow traveller.

What’s your pastime, I asked.

Spotting the planes in the night sky.

Pretty interesting!

Sometimes they’re so very far off that you don’t get any sound at all. I imagine those who people its interior.

Have you ever been on a plane?

No. You see, in my dreams I often see them crashing. In real life, when a plane passes overhead, I keep looking at it till it goes out of sight. I then remember my dream, and begin to worry about its safety.

Curbside Services, by Larry Alvarado

15/2/2021

FOOD

I walk from the diner window to the corner lights of a neon evening. My gloves wrap around piping hot trophy take-out, snug in its cardboard clamshell. Passing wispy steam emanating through the sidewalk grate, I bump into a tall man enrobed in vibrant blankets: royal blue, regal red, and pure white. His shoes are a garish gold.

He waits to reclaim the concrete mattress I trespass. His hands tremble holding a hymnal. A voice sings in my ear: “For He...shall give his angels...charge over thee…” Thus, I trade my Pad Thai for a psalm and a smile.

Starvation, by Meryl Hulber

15/2/2021

FOOD

It was too much for Laakini. The temptation of the open strawberry cheese tart. Her hands were nimble and quick. She’d done this trick so many times before. Her parents would send her out to the market, but many stall holders would shoo her away. Laakini was one of the Dalit or untouchables in India, who had to beg for food. She was good at stealing though and she would bring it back to her parents, her stomach in knots from hunger. Her name means ‘Goddess who gives and takes’.

Worlds, by Jane Tulloch

15/2/2021

TRAVEL

Travel broadens the mind. So they say. Trains, planes, boats and automobiles take us to places far away. Not possible any more but there are no restrictions on memory. On the mind’s eye.

In my chair I see again the radiant sunlight of Sydney or the opalescent blue sea of the Mediterranean from our ship’s balcony. I savour again the different flavours of foods and exotic drinks in luxurious places.

The bright colours of Bangladesh flash into my mind suddenly. The poverty. The hopeless destitution of some. The spark in sunken eyes.

The difference between worlds travelled and those endured.

A Traveller, by Andrew Carter

15/2/2021

TRAVEL

Valentine’s Day catches him by surprise. He’s been thinking of asking a workmate out for a date but doesn’t want to rush things.

He buys a pie on the hop then rushes to deliver her a Valentine’s card, instead.

A red light catches him by surprise, let alone the tailgater running up his rear end. The tailgating driver swerves to park on his right, beside him.

Enraged, he throws his meat pie at the dog in her passenger seat and hits the dog in the eye. He shouts, “have a dog’s eye’ ya mut.”

His work colleague raises her eyebrows.

Carrot Milkshake, by Padmini Krishnan

15/2/2021

FOOD

Sheila sliced the carrots with ferocity, the sound thudding around the kitchen.

“Dad! Mom’s food is so yucky”, giggled her 5-year old son.

“Don’t bother with the lunch, Sheila. I will eat outside.” Her husband said innocently, hiding his smile.

“Did you eat mom’s food today or had some tasty food from outside?” asked her child’s grandmother over the phone, laughing gleefully.

Her husband tentatively sipped the carrot milkshake in front of him. “It is good, Sheila.”

“Yummy, mommy.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Sheila asked for she had soaked her blood of pain, anger, and humiliation into the milkshake.

A Perfect Vacation, by John M. Carlson

15/2/2021

TRAVEL, SPORT, FOOD

This is a nearly perfect vacation, Kristi thought, as she watched the path by the hotel. It was nice getting away from the snow back home. She’d take a gourmet cooking class. Bill, her husband, would play in an amateur golf tournament.

Suddenly, she noticed Bill walking with a woman. They paused and kissed. This must be Bill’s new mistress.

Kristi quickly snapped a picture with her phone. When they got back home, she’d ask for a divorce. Getting evidence like this would help her pressure Bill into a generous settlement. Which would make this the perfect vacation.

Sensate, by Jeffrey M. Dean

15/2/2021

TRAVEL

I expected to feel numb in the icy water. But I am not numb. Or cold. I feel nothing. And I cannot move. I lie still as the mussel shells and snails that share the bottom with me. My eyes are open. I see blue and white at the rippling surface above, but the light does not permeate the darkness. I can hear a muffled cacophonic crunching and tap tap tapping that descend slowly to silence. There is no yesterday, or today. No tomorrow. No past, no future. Nor any time. Only darkness. They are never going to find me.

Lost and Found, by Danny DeFonza

14/2/2021

TRAVEL

The stress of traveling always rattled Jim and he would lose things.

“I looked everywhere!” Jim yelled from the bedroom. “I can’t find our checkbook!”

“You’d better find it or we’ll miss the train!” Clara yelled back from the kitchen. “Check your desk.”

“I did! I looked everywhere, even the garage!”

Clara took the checkbook from her purse and marched upstairs.

“Here, silly boy. Like I said, it was right there in your desk.”

“You have GOT to be kidding! I looked there! Twice!”

“It’s OK,” Clara said, gently. “You’re good at losing, I’m good at finding. We’re a team.”

Trip Planning, by Krystyna Fedosejevs

14/2/2021

FOOD, TRAVEL

“What’s next?” Dorothy hinted, jotting down an itinerary. “Dip into Morocco for mint tea and chocolate Baghrir? Mango Granizado and Churros in Spain?”

Chad perused the travel leaflet. “Let’s visit...”

“Croatia?” interrupted Dorothy. “I’d like to buy crocheted handmade-linens.”

Chad cringed. “How about watching a Samurai sword dance and sample Takoyaki?”

Dorothy squirmed, packing sunglasses into her carryon.

“Ready? We can make the ten o’clock bus, plan the rest later.”

Sunshine smiled on their adventure. They arrived at a city park, with the goal of visiting as many pavilions as possible within one day.

At the outdoor heritage festival.

Bystander, by Bill Engleson

14/2/2021

TRAVEL, FOOD

The point was, I was on vacation.

A Staycation.

Yup, traveled two blocks to my favorite coffee emporium.

The Juicy Roast.

It was a sunny September weekday.

Sat outside, breathed in the gas fumes, the fried-everything smells coming from all the local fast-food joints.

The girl looked about twenty.

She let out a tiny scream.

The two goobers who grabbed her were suited up.

They looked professional.

Accountants maybe.

Maybe not.

I coulda done something.

Hollered out.

Called 911.

When you’re on vacation, even a staycation, you really don’t want to be disturbed.

Besides, my Americano was speaking my name.

Rivals, by Sue Clayton

14/2/2021

TRAVEL

The gaudy fuselage blurred to a kaleidoscope of colour as the aircraft took off, levelling out at cruising altitude. I knew its manufacturer was no match for my aeronautical expertise and looked with pride upon my own proto-type.

My pure white craft soared into the air, travelling sleeker and faster than any other that had flown before. But instead of outpacing its rival for speed and sleekness it plummeted to earth, nose crumpling as it dived into the ground.

“You need to use stronger paper,” the gaudy aircraft owner grinned as his floated down for a perfect landing.

Abstract Art, by Ken Goldman

14/2/2021

TRAVEL

“Your home is beautiful. Simply beautiful,” the Earthman informed his Beta-4 hostess. “The lines, the form. And what a spectrum of color! This is art!”

The female alien smiled. “Our culture recognizes genius. We employ artists in every aspect of everyday home design. May I show you the rest of our residence?”

“One moment,” the Earthman replied. “George, Mary, come look at this piece!”

His flight crew joined him.

“Fantastic!”

“Incredible!”

“I must meet the sculptor.”

The hostess blushed green.

“Sirs ... Madam ... I will gladly accommodate your request. I should inform you, though, that what you’re looking at is our toilet.”

Dreaming, by Mary Wallace

14/2/2021

TRAVEL

He watched the deserted gate from the airport waiting area.

Gemma wasn't coming. Paul had known since receiving the text in the taxi, the one vibrating in his pocket, still unread.

He returned the tickets for Paris to his jacket. It had been a dream to sustain them both through rough marriages. Valentine's day she would fly to him and he would have tickets for their new life.

Glancing down,he read the message.
"Sorry. He's a rubbish husband but a good dad."

Paul sighed, Sarah was a good mum. Perhaps a holiday in Paris was all their marriage needed.

Take It Easy, Take It Easy, by C. J. H. Dickens

14/2/2021

FOOD, SPORT, TRAVEL

Me and my son are taking a spin in my new wheels, a used Presidential 'Beast' with 'Trump for President' scored out. For monsters like us, perfect.

"Dad," my son asks, "what's your favourite sport?"

"Monsters like shooting disobedient writers, son. The ones that can't follow instructions. Bullet through both arms at once, great fun."

"Not the head?" the boy asks.

"Doesn't work. They've no brain."

A little further down the road, we stop at a MacMonsters. "Fancy a writerburger, son?"

"Yes, please, dad. Can I have ketchup?"

"Sure, but only a vegan burger bun. Gotta think of the planet."

Traveling On My Own, by Alex Andy Phuong

13/2/2021

TRAVEL

I am the author of my own life. Because of that, it is impossible to erase my mistakes since I am writing in pen. Nevertheless, I can still continue on the journey, and help the world along the way. My writing will be my gift to the world, and I shall march on against inequality. My travels will put me on a path towards self-discovery and humility. I shall write to make the world bright!

League Cup Final 1990, by James B. Revell

13/2/2021

SPORT

With 76,000 spectators at Wembley, there had been running fights in and around the stadium long before kick-off. I was stationed between the two 'firms',where the hostility was visceral:- Early on we headed off a confrontation where bottle-wielding Chelsea supporters were being taunted by Middlesbrough fans....
After 26 minutes Chelsea scored, triggering violence on the terraces:-A nearby Chelsea skinhead administered a 'Glasgow kiss' to a noisy Middlesbrough fan, knocking him out cold.The thug did not resist when I restrained and arrested him...
'So much for Pele's 'Beautiful Game' ', I mused, hours later, as I headed for home...

Tick-Tock Time, by Fliss Zakaszewska

13/2/2021

TRAVEL

“What’s the time?”

“Half-past-nine,” Peter would invariably reply, sometimes continuing the rhyme, “Hang your knickers on the line.”

Two Christmases ago, to stem my incessant question, he bought five clocks: one for each main room. I always have time now...

I smile as a ‘bong’ announces the half-hour. “What’s the time?” I whisper and reply to myself, “half-past-nine.”

Peter’s working on an amazing immunisation project in Africa, travelling from town to village to protect the people. With COVID restrictions, he’s stuck there for now.

The hands move slowly up to ten o’clock. “Safe home, son,” I whisper to the clock.

The Prodigal Daughter, by E. E. Rhodes

13/2/2021

FOOD

The telegram from her father had reeked of urgency, but the darkened house was quiet.

She emptied her handbag first. Sari and choli into the laundry bag. Toiletries shelved in her childhood bedroom.

On the side table there was a burned out cone of incense. Her family’s favoured small gods thanked. A photo beside it, ‘mummydaddyaunty’.

There was a flask in the kitchen, and a candle still burned beside it. Someone had remembered her arrival.

The chai, when she poured it, smelled of bitterness, softened by cardomon. Ashok, the old cook, had tried, once again, to make this her home.

My Girlfriend, by Robert Plumlee

13/2/2021

SPORT, TRAVEL

Kathy and I completed our second ski run at Telluride, Colorado. On the ski-lift, I whispered in her ear asking what she wanted for her twenty-first birthday. She turned to me and smiled.

“A new Rolls Royce and another diamond ring.”

For a man eighty-three years old, I am really fortunate to have a girlfriend and lover like Kathy. We’ve been together a little over three years now; three wonderful years of crazy fun, travel, and hot passionate lovemaking.

Next week, when we get back to Denver, we’re going to the Rolls Royce dealership and then to the jeweler store.

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