Blog Archives

Believe!, by Don Tassone

31/5/2024

Most people were shocked by the dramatic changes that rapidly unfolded once he took office.

Rounding up and deporting immigrants en masse. Prosecuting political rivals. Pardoning criminals. Removing judges. Revoking media licenses. Banning books. Firing and replacing government workers. Using the military to quell protests. Building detention camps. Abandoning allies. Appeasing dictators.

Leading up to the election, he’d talked about doing all these things. Yet most voters didn’t expect such things would actually happen because they no longer trusted politicians. Most thought the now new president’s campaign slogan — “Believe!” — was just hype, like an ad for a reality TV show.

An Old Lady Partakes, by Sherri Bale

31/5/2024

Am I awake? Or asleep? Thoughts race so fast each leaves a trail of rainbow colors in its wake. My toes buzz, my head warms. My mouth is as dry as the Dust Bowl in 1930. A bitter-sweet flavor of chocolate lingers.

The bed spins. The room spins. But really ... am I dreaming or am I awake? My eyes seem to be closed; I have a close-up view of the inside of my eyelids.

When I “wake” in the morning, it's like coming in for a landing.

Man, this stuff is nothing like what we got in the sixties.

Mommie Weirdest, by Ed N. White

31/5/2024

In Righteous City, Florida, the Mothers Against Anything We Disagree With meeting was called to order by its school board hypocritical gadfly affectionately known as “Beezee.”
“This month, our target of rebuke, condemnation, and hostility will be a multi-colored rabbit pellet-sized candy known by its alphabetic letters.”
Someone boldly asked, “Why?”
“Because they suggest diversity, and we all know where that leads.”
“Where?”
“Chaos.”
“What?”
“Genders will be confused, books read, schools teach, tones assimilate, and chaos will reign.”
“You mean there will be universal inclusiveness and acceptance of people with different opinions, faiths, ethnicities, sexuality, and skin color?”
“Exactly.”

The Last Submission, by Kayla Lang

31/5/2024

Jenny sat with her head between her knees, fighting back tears.

“The last one,” she’d overheard Mr. Hawkins say. Last? How? After countless hours of pouring her heart and soul …

The sound of a flushing toilet jolted her. She needed to hurry, or she’d be late for history.

Wincing at her red-rimmed reflection, Jenny composed herself and stepped out.

Oh no, Miss Laurence. She couldn’t bear the sympathetic looks now.

Unfortunately, Miss Laurence was striding towards her with a wide smile. “I shouldn’t say, but Mr. Hawkins said your painting was the best despite being the last submission. Well done!”

Rapunzel: The Last Date, by David W. Jones

31/5/2024

The prince rides to the base of the tower, dismounts, calls out:
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
let down thy hair,
that I may climb
thy golden stair."

Hair comes down, he climbs to the window, looks inside.

Her desiccated corpse lies on the bed, eyes glaring red, surrounded by a seething mass of hair that reaches for him. The hair he climbed wraps around his waist and drags him inside.

"You always promise, but you never take me anywhere," she says, "And I'm hungry."

Then there are just horrible eating sounds and screaming.

Experimentalist, by S. Anand

31/5/2024

A few steps more to the vespiary. She is about to learn the answer to a crucial question.

Last night she had carefully marked the queen and the workers with appropriate colours and had set up the measurement apparatus. If her hypothesis turns out to be correct, it would shake the foundations of hexapodal decision making.

But did she lock the cage properly? Her heart skipped a beat. If not, all the work would be lost. What if she did but her hypothesis turns out to be wrong? She couldn't decide which outcome she feared more and quickened her pace.

Chicken 'n Mayo, by Haley Carter

31/5/2024

Well after midnight. Homesick. Heartsick. Miserable. Another hour before the bus.

A man ate in silence two tables over. Would it be weird to say hello?

The young woman tarried on her way past, eyeing his plate curiously. She’d never seen anyone do that. “Did you put mayo on your fried chicken?” Oh no, too late to turn back now. She’d said it aloud.

The sage man smiled. “Why, yes I did. Have a seat.”

Never more relieved in her life, she happily complied, and the strangers became soul friends as they shared the basket of chicken.

Sun Phase, by Teri Wright

31/5/2024

First sighting of the sun for weeks. Jim and Babs drive to the nearest garden centre, elbow their way to the perennials, pick up plastic trays of lobelias. “Perfect for hanging baskets,” Babs declares. Jim spots a patio furniture set. “Good value that,” he states. Babs nods. They grab random seed packets, berry bushes and tomato plants, imagining being self-sufficient.

Hours later, they sit on the new chairs, complain of stiff arms and sore backs, of sunburnt necks.

The heavens open.

Three weeks later, there is another sighting of the sun. Jim and Babs drive to the nearest garden centre.

The Glow We Don’t See, by Sankar Chatterjee

31/5/2024

(Image credit: Sinjinee Chatterjee)

Melody desperately needed a break. At work, the organization just hired a workaholic CEO. He already proposed lofty goals, impossible to deliver in time. In personal life, longtime boyfriend Rob suddenly found her incompatible and left, add to that those heart-wrenching images from an ongoing conflict.

To recharge, she took a Friday evening flight to Pokhara, a scenic hamlet inside northern mountains. Next morning, an early songbird woke her up. Dark outside, she stepped out of her cottage. Over the mountains, the cloud veiled sun began to bathe nature, turning streams into molten gold.

Melody whispered “Life remains worth living.”

Denial, by David Sydney

31/5/2024

Frank and the insurance adjuster tip-toed through the flattened remains of his home and garage. A freak storm leveled the place. Crumley, the adjuster, was still skeptical.

"I don't think the storm did this." Crumley kicked aside multiple tiles, once a garage roof.
"What'd you mean?"
"Termites."
"Termites?" Frank couldn't believe it.

"They're insects. They're everywhere.”
"Insects crushed my car?" Frank looked sadly at what had been his Prius.
"There." Crumley pointed. "Termites."

Could Frank believe it? Turned down? Rejected? Of course, whenever the adjuster brought his own termites to scatter over so-called wreckage, his work was that much easier.

Unwelcome News, by Allison Symes

31/5/2024

Dear Melissa

I’m gone. Your account is cleared. You have others. You were right to distrust me. Old habits are hard to break.

Yours is worse. I’m just a con.

How many women wear opera capes and are never back before dawn? And those fangs! Am thankful you never kissed my neck.

Let’s call it a draw. I don’t expose you. I have pictures. You show up in them.

The police are still seeking that prowler who leaves teeth marks in the bathroom soaps of local pensioners, you weren’t fussy about gender here, were you?).

I get the money.

Stefan

Premier Match, by John O’Keefe

31/5/2024

The captain of the home team has scored four goals this season (all penalties) and had eleven assists.

At the cusp of halftime he draws two defenders and volley-kicks the ball to the lanky Number 10. Goal! Strutting off the pitch, a stud stallion. (Some womenfolk clamorously indicate availability.)

Different picture, later. At the 82nd minute the home team is down 2-1, but there’s a penalty now. The captain expertly sends the goalie to the right, then hits the left post. Defeat.

Dragging himself off the field, head lowered, a dejected clown.

Shape-shifting thrice, geometric chameleon.

Magical Love, by Angela Carlton

31/5/2024

I didn’t think you’d ever find me. There are letters in a shoebox buried in my closet, letters to you-you-you. I never planned to have another child after I lost you, but it happened. After your father sent me away to live with my mother claiming I was unstable, not fit to be a mother, I gave birth to your brother. We’ve lived a quiet life, mostly, as I recorded my thoughts, and regrets. Now that you’ve made an effort to find me, it’s my gift, this box of secrets laced with sorrow, sprinkled with a magical love for you.

Blanca's Prayer, by Lucy Iscaro

31/5/2024

“Blanca, my son, the doctor, is coming for dinner. Polish the sliver,” Senora Helen demanded. She closed the kitchen door tight, like her closed heart and wallet.
Moments before, Blanca pleaded for an advance to help pay her immigration lawyer. “I need to get my little boy safely out of Ecuador.”
“Don’t you people believe in prayer? Pray for guidance,” was the answer.
When the son arrived, Blanca had an idea. She’d heard she’d get a green card if she married a citizen.
“Call me George,” the friendly man said.
Si, Senora, Helen, Blanca thought. Prayer is powerful.

Regretful Ordeals, by Emily Margaris

24/5/2024

I maxed out a credit card after stealing a prom dress at the mall, security followed me, said please come with us, then sitting across from me at their formidable desk said pay this fine, it won’t be reported to the police, you seem remorseful. I applied for a credit card on my parents computer, miraculously approved the perfect amount to pay for my consumerist sin.

The ordeal remains on my Experian report, ugly interest, I forgot to pay the monthly, my mind ruminating on gut-punches from my ex, hair pulling, how he spit on me, and stole my time.

Cold Comfort, by Brian Mackinney

24/5/2024

I’m on a new painkiller. It is to alleviate the discomfort of compressed nerves. My doctor said that the medication is connected to my brain to deaden the pain.

I now have the disconcerting habit of starting conversations without segues which seems to confuse people as they have no hinterland to my stories. I have the same problem with jokes which are not funny, upsetting people.

This morning I started to write drabbles again and to my horror the words on my iPad were so jumbled that autocorrection couldn’t sort them out. My back pain’s gone but my Brian’s confused.

Where’s Riley? by Krystyna Fedosejevs

24/5/2024

It’s been sometime since Nancy viewed his belongings. The toys she bought him lay exactly how he left them. His dishes sat idly in want of use.

She recalled the day she’d rather forget. Sparrows chattered. Neighbourhood children frolicked under a beaming sun. Nancy smiled, seeing her favourite fellow wildly shaking a rubber chicken. Next time she glanced from behind a window, he was gone. The gate had been opened.

Years later, a stranger phoned. He had reason to believe that someone belonging to her was spotted five-hundred miles away from where she lived.

Her retriever, Riley, was returning home.

Solitude and Stories, by Paritosh Chandra Dugar

24/5/2024

It was not a deciduous but permanently denuded tree. Once, it used to be a dense growth to please wanderers and workers. Gradually, it withered and became a neglected thing like me. It haunted me and cruelly reminded me of my worthlessness.

That night, a sage appeared in my dream and uttered, “Words, words, words.” The next was a fateful day for me. I picked a lot many words and sowed them into the fallow soil of my solitude. Within a few months, a lush green crop of stories emerged to please thousands of wonderers. The tree stopped haunting me.

Wolf Song, by Judith White Hughes

24/5/2024

Staring into the golden eyes of the wolf at the Sanctuary and hearing the resident wolves raise their voices in song was chilling. Had my message had been transmitted?

A week later; 702 miles away: “Wolf song uninterrupted in Daniel, Wyoming, In an unprecedented display, wolves have circled Cody Robert’s’ home and howled for six days. Roberts remains trapped. On 29th February 2024, Roberts ran down a yearling wolf with his snowmobile, muzzled, leashed, and dragged the gravely wounded animal by a shock collar into a pub where she was tortured for several hours before her death.”

Only half fantasy!

All Dressed Up And Somewhere To Go, by Glo Curl

24/5/2024

I slip away from the awards after-party and hail a taxi.
‘Victoria coach station, please.’ The driver does a double-take in his mirror, as I scrabble for face wipes.
‘Goin’ somewhere nice, love?’ he ventures. I beam back at him. ‘Best place on Earth.’
I scrape my hair into a ponytail and unclip my earrings, thankful I decided against wearing a long dress this time.

The coach driver gently nudges me awake; I step down into the chilly early morning mist. It’s a short walk uphill. She comes straight to the door and takes me in her arms.

Coronation, by Tom Baldwin

24/5/2024

The new king acknowledged the cheers from the adoring coronation crowd. His enemies were all in jail and the political system changed by the Thirtieth Amendment, giving him and his descendants absolute power over his country for ever.

‘I will make this country great again. I will stop all immigration, remove all gun controls, deport all blood-sucking leeches and use our great traditions to make this the most powerful, the most wealthiest, the most…’

Shots rang out and the king slumped to the ground. There was also a tradition that malcontents occasionally expressed disapproval of their country’s leader.

Notes from an Exhibition, by Stephen Goodlad

24/5/2024

Dates stones were sewn onto a useless canvas made for shelter, now in shreds, one for each day of the conflict. Rows of baby’s milk bottles filled with anything but milk; sand, bullets, seeds, sticks, rubble. Some had no teats; others were charred having been thrown clear of bomb-blasted buildings.
I didn’t come in for this. Next door in a beautiful house is a collection of antique furniture, landscape scenes, portraits, and sculptures. Sea shells and pebbles make tranquil designs for lazy sunlit cornices.
Meanwhile, I cannot remove from my mind, the image of a push-chair crushed by shelled masonry.

A Chef's Journey, by Aaron Han

24/5/2024

Gordon's Choice

I pick up a knife with one hand and take a look at the other, readying the claw hands I’ve been using since adolescence. The difference is that I am now center stage in the greatest restaurant in Vegas. I review the shallots on the cutting board, ready for our signature Beef Wellington. A few swift chops and then a bunch of diced shallots. I have done this countless times, but the slicing and dicing still reminds me of my first time, in my immigrant parent’s kitchen, a YouTube cooking channel on my phone. The journey was long, but worthwhile.

A Volunteer, by David Sydney

24/5/2024

Lisa's Choice

At the Bureau, agents were referred to by number. The Chief called #33, #55, and #67 to his office for a dangerous mission.

#67 was now 10 minutes late. #33 and #55 sat uncomfortably before the Chief's desk.
"I prefer a volunteer," he explained.
There might be no coming back. If caught, perhaps torture, or death…
They waited another 15 minutes.
"Could I volunteer #67?"
"I'm with #33. I'd like to volunteer #67, Chief."

Relieved, the old man dismissed the two agents. 13 minutes later, #67 knocked on his door.
"Sorry I'm so late, Chief."
"Good to see you, #67."

Freedom, by David Milner

24/5/2024

The man in the Hi-Viz vest walks across the roof of the tower block. He stands at the edge. He’s had enough of the people who do not hear him when he speaks. Had enough of the work boots on his feet. He takes a final breath.

“It’s a long way down.”

He turns his head.

“Think of the mess.”

The small boy speaking is wearing a Hi-Viz vest, dungarees and work boots, unlaced.

“I have known you…”

“I’m you, many years ago.” The boy smiles.

Sam steps back and begins to cry.

“There is freedom in forgiveness, Sam.”

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