Blog Archives

Rural Bus Route, by Cheryl Dahlstrand

26/4/2024

“Did you walk to school?” Kevin asked.

Grandad chuckled. “Mr. Pyrtle drove our bus. Summers, he worked at the bait shop. He was tall and skinny with a voice to match. ‘You kids pipe down,’ he’d call out. The bus quieted down for about a minute.

At year’s end, a crate full of paper lunch bags appeared by the driver’s seat. ‘Have a great break,’ Mr. Pyrtle would chirp, handing them out. Inside was a candy bar and a packet of firecrackers. We set them off as soon as we got home. That officially announced the beginning of summer vacation.”

Landless, by John O’Keefe

26/4/2024

(Image: Toni Verkruysse)

When his family were ejected from their land, they were told it now belonged to the State. More accurately, it belonged to a large corporate farm with the expertise to produce three times greater harvest than he and his ancestors ever could with their primitive hoes. Higher productivity benefits the common good and, indirectly, his family too.

Now several decades later, living in a foreign country two thousand miles away from the land, he still remembers the smell of the soil. The soil - which now carries paved roads, luxury condos, timeshares, but no crops - still remembers their primitive hoes.

The Hermit's Secret, by Mimi Grouse

26/4/2024

Hunched over his desk, his shadow huge in the candlelight, Brother Jorck watched his blood seep into the parchment before him. He had until morning to fulfil the Duke's request for a ceremonial hymn, but the moon was full, Mercury was in retrograde and ice hung on the air.
'I've been sitting here since yesterday without writing a word,' he despaired, staring at the crimson liquid dripping from his brow.
Between the trees, a lone wolf howled.
Something scratched at the door.
Extinguishing the taper, Brother Jorck ran outside as the hairs on the back of his neck grew thicker.

The New Arrangement, by Sivan Pillai

26/4/2024

She had left when I was asleep. Going with a friend, her letter had said. She didn't want to live with my low income. Hope I find a suitable partner soon, was her taunting wish.
She didn't know I had left my father after a heated argument. Will live without your money, I had challenged him.
His lawyer told me after the funeral that he had left his business empire to me.
I decided to start afresh. With a wife who loved money more than me. Who didn't question me when I came home at odd hours.
Love. My foot!

Mandy's Knight in Shining Armor, by Leigh-Anne Burley

26/4/2024

Battling the searing heat in her husband's gaze, Mandy is once more struck by a painful blow that shatters her spirit. She applies makeup concealer to her bruised cheek in the bathroom mirror and readies herself for another day at work.
During the drive to work, Mandy yearns for the solace of her cherished fairytale realm, where she awaits her knight in shining armor to liberate her from the clutches of the fire-breathing dragon. On a gray day, the battered woman veers off a cliff into a land filled with fragrant gardens and waterfalls and into her knight's arms.

Deception, by Allison Symes

26/4/2024

Who was that woman on her husband’s phone?

Rosie grimaced at the image of the young, attractive girl.

She could scarcely believe Derek would be unfaithful. This clinched it. He knew she valued honesty. If he’d had enough, he should say so. They would have an amicable arrangement. These things happened.

Rosie cried.

The kitchen door opened. She sent her chair flying as she stood. ‘How dare you!’

‘What have I done, darling?’

‘Don’t you darling me. Who the hell is this?’

Derek took the phone from her. ‘Darling, this is you on our honeymoon. You don’t remember, do you?’

A 03.00 AM Call, by Yola M. Caecenary

26/4/2024

Dad is no longer with us.

Abruptly, I woke up to the seemed-clear voice to find no one. I sat on the bed, trying to outline my feelings, when the urge to go to the loo came.

Shivering, I went back to my bed to see my phone flickering.
I stopped thinking as a continuous call before dawn never gives good news. Recognising the caller made me tenser. Because a few hours before, we met in front of the ICU.
Hearing my aunt's voice razed everything. Quivering, I ended the call.

I burst into tears as the voice recited itself.

Nine Equals One Thousand, by Jo Riglar

26/4/2024

Granny had been shopping and expectations were high.
Today’s treats were juicy hot cross buns. Sugary glaze, plump fruit in spongy dough.
Colin drooled.
‘They’ll stay in the cupboard until you’ve had your spaghetti.’
Nobody argues with Mum.
Next day Gran helped with homework. Colin had trouble with his tables. 9 divided by 3? Don’t know, he thinks, sucking on his pencil.
What can we use? thought Gran. ‘Any buns left in the cupboard?
‘Charlie ate them’, confirmed Colin.
‘Mum took him to the vet. She paid £1000 for his operation.
Don’t you know Granny? Dogs shouldn’t eat raisins.’

Raised Right, by Dewey Dabbar

26/4/2024

As a child, Wilf had earned hundreds of warm toothy smiles from teachers, older relatives, and friends’ parents. For he had always expressed polite gratitude and had never let a door swing shut in someone’s path.

Now, a day before his forty-fourth birthday, he was bearing his own incisors with an appreciative grin. In securing a back-door deal to open a new coal mine, Wilf offered profuse thanks as he shook each politician’s hand in turn.

The First Helmet, by Michael Buckingham Gray

26/4/2024

He wanders around the museum and its many exhibits. Stops. And stares at a brown helmet. Circles around it. And stops once more.

"Clay," he says, "why those cheeky monkeys!"

He laughs and imagines monkeys frolicking around during a storm. Jumping. Squatting. Dipping their hands into the wet earth. Throwing muck. Patting their heads. And the sun drifting from behind the clouds, baking the clay into a hard shell. Producing the first helmet.

It's my Winter, by Stephen Goodlad

26/4/2024

“I think it’s my winter, Ed.”
Pearl often talks to Ed. He smiles from his photograph on top of the television. But she gets more conversation from Anthony, the mounted moose head in the hall.
“I think it’s my winter, Anthony.”
Anthony says she has many more. He still sports the Christmas baubles that Ed placed there before plunging to his eventual demise atop a step-ladder twenty years ago.
Pete calls every month to discuss the insurance policy he sold Ed, along with the faulty step ladder.
“I think it's my winter, Pete”
Soon. I hope, he thinks.

Added Weight, by Jennifer Duncan

26/4/2024

"Glioblastoma - brain cancer."

Claudia felt woozy and bowed her head.

The prognosis was grim: likely a year or less.

Her family and friends were shocked but quickly rallied to help her.

"You're a fighter. You'll beat this beast. Never give up hope."

"Take these supplements. They'll boost your immune system."

"Have faith in yourself. You're a good person."

Treatments were started. Most days she just felt stunned. Sometimes her headaches were not as painful.

"Focus. Embrace life. Believe you can win the fight."

She believed as hard as she could.

Eight months later, her eyes closed for the last time.

We Are Fine, by Malvina Perova

26/4/2024

When I tell foreigners where I live, they go hysteric about the explosions, the absence of basic services and my compelled monk diet. While drinking my coffee in the local cafe, I try to explain that the black hole in the building across the street doesn’t look that bad.

My granny calls me every Wednesday, when she gets to the nearest volunteer’s centre, to tell me that another nearby house got bombed by Russian Grads. “It gets warmer, while it burns,” she says and vehemently refuses to evacuate. “I’m doing fine. My basement outlived Hitler, it will watch Putin rot.”

One of Al's Parrots, by David Sydney

26/4/2024

Parrots can live from 10–80 years, depending on size. Mel purchased a mid-sized bird at AL'S PETS. A week later, he was back with his grey parrot. And, he was very upset…
"What's with this?" He pointed to his bird in the cage that Al also had sold him.
"What'd you mean?"
"It's got a terribly foul mouth," complained Mel.
"What?"
"Pure filth."
"That thing lived 10 years with its mother before I sold it to you." Al rarely refunded bird purchases.
"Yeah? So what?"
"So, if you want to talk about filth, you should've heard its mother."

Dream Date, by Rod Drake

26/4/2024

When Janie walked into the Homecoming Dance, no one could believe who her date was. A Big Foot. Clad in a massive suit, hair combed back and slicked, every eye was on him. Them.

She was the prettiest girl in school, a cinch to be the Homecoming Queen. He was 8-feet tall, maybe 500 pounds and so hairy, He turned out to be a good, graceful dancer. And they danced every dance together, slow and fast, holding each other tightly.

Then right before the Homecoming King and Queen announcement, they quietly left the dance, dainty hand in giant paw.

A Good Constellation, by Mary K. Curran

26/4/2024

She was having lunch with friends when two elderly gentlemen sat down at the next table. Lucy knew they were speaking Hebrew as she had been a kibbutz volunteer decades ago.
She glanced over and caught one of the men staring at her. She winked. He grinned.
“Lucy!”
“Yitzhak?”
Delighted, they held each other and kissed with remembered youthful passion.
“My special gal from a long time ago. You spoken for?”
“Widowed. Married almost 42 years. You?”
“Wife died last year. I’m here visiting brother and his family but flying home to Israel tomorrow.”
“Should I get my passport renewed?”

Sink or Swim, by Ed N. White

26/4/2024

He struggled with the opener to remove both lids from a tuna can.
She said, “Frank, what are you doing?”
“I’m making a tambourine shell.”
“For who, the incredible shrinking man?”
“No, the cat.”
She sensed a migraine coming on. “Why?”
“AGT. Howie will love it.”
Then she spotted the chicken breast with the skin peeled off and asked why. He mumbled, “Drumhead.”
She saw Granny’s charm bracelet and the needle-nose pliers, too.
“What…?”
“Jingles.”
After the divorce, Frank converted the cordless car vacuum into a feline scuba tank and posted a TikTok video that received over a million hits.

In the Morning Light, by Tom Baldwin

19/4/2024

Cora smiled in the morning light, the glow of last night’s love-making still warming her. At forty-seven, and after three children, she knew her body was past its best, but Denny, bless him, always made it clear that he still loved her and still fancied her. Life was good.

She eased herself up on one elbow to look down at his sleeping form and saw his clothes scattered across the floor, as usual. Then he shifted his position and farted.

‘Sorry, babe,’ he mumbled.

Cora smiled ruefully. Yes, life was good. Not perfect, but still good.

Sunrise, by Don Tassone

19/4/2024

He had been a man of faith. He believed in things, ideas and people. But one by one, they all let him down, and he became wary of everything and everyone.

Then one day he awoke before dawn and watched the sun rise. In all his years, he’d never actually seen a sunrise. That morning he felt the sun’s rays were reaching out to him.

He no longer awakens before dawn. He trusts the sun will rise and light his way each day. He’s learning to believe again.

The Quandary, by Brian Mackinney

19/4/2024

I want to do summat but I don’t want to do nowt. The double negative always gets in the way of life’s little pleasures especially when you don’t want to make the effort.

That was John’s quandary as he stretched his legs in his activity chair. Should he lean back a little or lot? Should he lift the leg rest? Should he make his chair the ultimate recliner by adjusting both? Perhaps he could propel himself into the rest of the day by pressing the button that lifts him out of the chair but he didn’t want to do nowt.

Resurgence, by Mimi Grouse

19/4/2024

The expedition to the volcano's southern face was the first trip Leonie had ever made without her husband. Later, in the hotel, she noticed her wedding ring was gone. She'd underestimated the mountaintop cold; it had slipped off her finger, unfelt. She thought of David, starting a new life with someone else, and, as she raised tear-filled eyes to the window, a flame the shape of a phoenix shot from the northern crater, leaving its shadow on the sky.
Leonie's heartbeat quickened at the sight.
'My marriage might be over,' she murmured, 'But the best is still to come.'

Welcome To The Lonely-Hearts Club, by Stephen Goodlad

19/4/2024

He could see her in the distance, her red beret like a stop signal, to which he complied from what he hoped was a safe distance. Her photograph must surely be out of date, so how accurate would; “Girl on a Motorcycle Seeks Easy Rider” be? His profile also stretched the truth beyond its yield point. A leather jacket was crowned with flowing blond hair, sitting astride a Triumph; all borrowed, including the hair.
Empty chairs beckoned at The Steel Horse Café which seemed corny now.
Front it out or stand her up? Welcome to the Lonely-Hearts Club, he thought.

A Metaphor, by Sankar Chatterjee

19/4/2024

(Image credit: Sinjinee Chatterjee)

It was a deafening silence, after days of round the clock aerial bombing by the neighbor. Teenager Saira ventured out of her family's collapsed basement, if food/water could be found anywhere.

Outside, a magical night was awaiting her. Miraculously, their backyard tall tree still stood. A glorious full moon flooded nature, the leaves glistening. But only the following lines of Indian poet Sukanta flashed:

“In the kingdom of hunger, this world is a piece of prose
Even a full moon appears like a baked warm flatbread.”

Then Saira’s epiphany appeared “How long do we wait for this madness to stop?”

The Privilege of Getting Swole, by Coleman Bigelow

19/4/2024

My son’s friends are bigger than me. They pound into the kitchen ransacking the pantry - dropping mud clods from their shoes and crumbs from their PowerBars. They’re a pack of gym-obsessed; hormone-fueled scavengers.

I go to the gym more now too—desperate to keep beating Henry at arm wrestling for just a while longer. We both laugh as our biceps strain and our eyes bulge but he’s gaining ground. My wife thinks Henry will be at least 5’ 11’’. It’s a good height we agree while thinking of the weeks we watched him hooked to tubes in the NICU.

Ending Missing Forever, by Phil Royal

19/4/2024

On a hitch-hike to London, I got stuck at night in a quiet spot when a car with three lads pulled up. I got in. They drove around quiet back roads. I began to think I could be in trouble. They asked a few casual questions. I was open but careful not to betray my anxiety. Eventually, we arrived at exactly the same place. I got out. I wonder if with my long hair, not yet so common, they might have thought me a girl. I wonder what might have happened if I had been. Ending missing forever.

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