Blog Archives

Restless, by Allison Symes

25/6/2021

'Restless, you are, Wilma, that's what you are - always have been, always will be.'

'Restless, surely not, I just can't get comfortable that's all. Some sympathy and understanding would be nice, Fred. Nobody sets out to be restless, you know.’

'Restless, I said, and restless I meant. Why has it always taken you so long to settle anywhere?’

'Restless, that's the last thing I should be in here; I always thought I'd have some peace here.'

'Restless spirit, restless grave, Wilma. I did think I'd have a break from your fidgeting when I joined you in here!’

The Trip of a Lifetime, by Anthony Wilkinson

25/6/2021

The letter said I’d won a trip around the world.

I thought I’d check with my doctor, ‘Enjoy it,’ he said.

First stop Qatar with its heat, dust and skyscrapers. Next stop…Singapore, which proved pleasant, still hot and humid, but tranquil. Then off to…Qatar? No, done that. Hong Kong, perhaps. I forget. Australia was nice, can’t recall where I went. Before I know it, I’m back home in London looking at unrecognisable photos.

The letter said I’d won a trip around the world.

I thought I’d check with my doctor—‘I think we need to do some tests,’ he says.

The Facts, by Pamela Kennedy

25/6/2021

Of course neither one of them was informed about true marital bliss....the constant stench of his athletic wear or the perpetual residue of her cosmetics on the bathroom counter...maybe she never expected to live with the never-ending sports programs or he to help finance those expensive "must have" home remodeling projects.

Perhaps all the facts of life weren't taught to them...or were they? Didn't they ever hear their parents say, "Someday you'll know what it's like...". Possibly they never paid much attention to their parents....maybe now they wished they had.

Job Club, by David Milner

25/6/2021

Well, y’know you’re heading for trouble when the words people say sound like a confluence of all the song lyrics you’ve ever heard, from Chuck Berry to Ed Sheeran; from Adele to Dr Dre, Bieber, Stormzy, Bacharach and David.

“We’ll get you back on the road.”

Gee thanks, you and that cat called Jack Kerouac? I feel like the eighth Dwarf, you know – the one who turns up late to the party, no one remembers his name.

What’s this now? Kitchen Porter; wear watertight shoes? Don’cha know, I’m a fabulous Roman candle, baby, watch me burn, burn, burn.

The Horror, by Archibald Hobbs

25/6/2021

Resting on his lumpy motel bed, following the long family road-trip, Digby looked up and observed that there was a gap between the rafter and the ceiling.

After assessing the angles, Digby retrieved his tennis ball and tossed it upwards.

His first attempt was too shallow. His second smacked into the wooden rafter and fell back into his hand. But his third traced a glorious, parabolic arc which cruised through the narrow gap between beam and roof.

Digby punched the air and cackled until he saw the ball plummeting towards where his father lay, mouth open and snoring…

(Clarinet) Life on Mars, by Gordon Lawrie

25/6/2021

Last Friday, I was sitting on a No.26 bus when a Martian got on and sat down beside me. I'd seen him before, but we'd never spoken, so when he (very politely) asked if he might join me, I was surprised to discover that he had a Russian accent. This, he explained, was the result of attending Moscow University where he'd gained a Double First in Clarinet and Espionage. Apparently they have a very good Clarinet Department in Moscow. He didn't offer to play, however, even although I spotted a clarinet protruding from his rucksack.

He alighted five stops later.

The Time Machine, by Timothy C Goodwin

25/6/2021

I wake up--
Nope. Same day. The sun has moved, though, to get a better look inside my apartment: without her things, it’s a magazine page with pictures cut out.
And he’s here. I admit it (finally).
"Admit?" Ihhh. Confess? Maybe?
Recognize. I recognize him. Who. Uh. Is me.
Well not…me-me. But a me that I recognize I don't want to be. Anymore. Who still treats relationships like I'm 20. Like he's 20.
Oh fuck it.
I adjust the blanket, set the pillow, and go off in search of a future where I can handle that guy.
Me.

Autoshop, by Michael Roberts

18/6/2021

When I go to pick up the van from Speedy Glass, the the guy has an envelope for me.

“Found these when we replaced the windshield.”

I open the envelope and inside are several parking stubs.

“Wasn’t sure what you’d want done with them.”

“Thanks?” I say.

Certainly not something I’d have saved on my own, had I been there at the moment, but whatever right?

Flipping through them, I see faded stubs from that amusement park, the one from the beer fest.

And that one from the motel five summers ago.

I can’t believe I didn’t throw that out.

Eureka, by Peggy Gerber

18/6/2021

Jake had always considered himself to be intelligent, so when he received a Rubik’s cube for his thirtieth birthday and couldn’t solve it, he was really annoyed. It became a ritual and a family joke that every year on his birthday he would try again.

As the years passed, his three children figured out the solution, but never Jake. He felt equal parts fatherly pride and frustration.

On his eightieth birthday, surrounded by loving family, Jake once again attempted the puzzle. Suddenly, his eyes opened wide, he bellowed out, “Eureka” and dropped down dead. The epitaph read, “Grandpa died triumphant.”

Second Chance, by Pauline Rendall

18/6/2021

I didn't recognise her at first. The hair was different, looser, more sexy. The heels were higher, the skirt tighter. The blouse more figure-hugging, a couple more buttons undone. She looked me in the eyes, said she'd come about the job.

‘There is no job,’ I told her ‘I’ve finished interviewing.’

‘I know,’ she said. She turned and looked at my new secretary, plump Mrs. Lyons typing away in the corner.

‘There isn't a job,’ I repeated. ‘I've filled the position. It's gone.’

She dipped her hand into her handbag. The bang was deafening.

‘Not any more,’ she said.

On Their Way Out, by Brian Maycock

18/6/2021

The last men prepared to leave earth, its death throes. The years-long storms raging outside their ship, their grizzled faces were set, determined. Their forefathers had been pioneers, conquering new lands. They would do the same. Find worlds to tame out there in distant space. They wiped sweat from the brows, flexed their muscles, said, Hell Yeah.

From their home world, viewing universes unfolding around them, the Observers considered this flurry of activity on a far far away once blue planet. A thought rippled between their interfaces: It will never catch on.

Mommy and Me, by Daniel Hybner

18/6/2021

We walked into a room full of moms and daughters. My daughter was visibly uncomfortable.

The lady in charge pulled me aside almost as soon as we walked in.

“I don’t want to make a fuss, but this is a ‘Mommy and Me’ painting session.”

“I understand. It’s just-”

“I’m sorry,” she interrupted. “No exceptions.”

“But, we really-”

“Ms. Pickering,” another woman approached. “This is Molly, the girl I spoke with you about.”

“Molly? Oh. Your mother is the one who...I’m so sorry.”

Molly turned to her and said, “Daddy and me will be just fine.”

Yes we will.

The Spider, by Joseph Ramey

18/6/2021

The spider nearly gave Tracy a coronary.

Nose deep in her book, she felt a tickling on her cheek. Looking down at herself, she saw its wriggly legs. Tracy sprung up, swatted her face, and rushed to the other side of the room to get a better look at the creature.

But nothing. Maybe she'd killed it.

Moments later, she sighed in relief.

Back at her book, a shape on the ceiling above her caught her eye. She stood to look closer. There was a web there with perfectly legible words. She mouthed the words silently, trembling.

"Goodbye, cruel world!"

A Gifted Writer, by Paritosh Chandra Dugar

18/6/2021

He was a writer par excellence. How vivid and precise were his descriptions! He made things happen just before you. What a style! All he wrote was about the thoughts, feelings, and emotions of a child from his infancy to his pre-adolescence period. His stories sparked a debate among psychologists, neurologists, and biologists about the cognitive development of the child. Some debunked the theory of full-blown neural development in the newborn and infants. Some accepted it as truth. The conflict continued till the celebrity’s wife revealed in a post-obituary press conference that her husband had a rare gift called Hyperthymesia.

You Don’t Have to be a Zombie to Work Here, But It Helps, by Bill Cox

18/6/2021

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood everywhere!

It’s okay, it’s not mine. Breathe. Just breathe.

Slow it down. Don’t look at Jones, or the others. Don’t look.

The explosion, I’ll bet it was that problem with the gas supply that we reported.

Never mind! Work the problem. The virus is in the air now. The lab is sealed, so I can’t get out. Help will be coming, but I don’t know when.

I count six dead bodies around me. The virus only works on necrotic tissue. Twenty minutes from mortality till reanimation. How long was I unconscious?

Oh!

Jones’ hand just moved…

A Pause in Time, by Sandra James

18/6/2021

He rides into town on a shiny black Harley Davidson and parks in the centre of the main street. He lifts his six foot six, heavily tattooed frame from the bike and pulls a packet from his pocket. Takes the last cigarette. Throws the packet to the ground.

‘Excuse me, sir. I think you dropped this.’ A small child holds the packet aloft.

Passers-by halt and collectively hold breath.

The biker grins. Pats the child gently on the head. ‘Silly me,’ he says, and tosses the packet into the bin.

Breaths exhale. Life resumes.

Do Mine Eyes Deceive Me, by Sue Clayton

18/6/2021

Forked lightning woke me in the early hours. Sleep banished I admired the storm raging across the Yorkshire moors; booming thunder rattled the window panes of my hotel bedroom on the moorland fringe.

Two distant figures roamed the crags and tors. Illuminated by the lightning I saw she wore a full length dress and shawl, he was clad in breeches and greatcoat. Neither appeared affected by the rampant weather.

“Who were they?” I queried at breakfast.

“Trick of the storm,” the landlord of the Wuthering Heights Hotel replied.

“Or perhaps it was our Cathy and Heathcliff.” His face remained dead-pan.

Take a Look, by Pamela Kennedy

18/6/2021

Stop and see the world...that's right....take a good long look...

That vet sleeping on the park bench wasn't always an alcoholic. He drank to forget the horrors of war, but those horrors are forever embedded in his brain.

The young run away fled a home full of abuse only to now live in a world overrun with it. He does what he does to survive.

That disheveled, rumpled old woman desperately clutches a bag of popcorn because it's her meals for the next two days.

Someone is always worse off than you.....help them...you'll feel better.

Her Happy Heart, by Shelley Kirton

18/6/2021

Dan’s wife, Ellen, was having drinks with his best friend. He saw them in the bar, heads together, laughing and happy, she with a look he hadn’t seen in a while. How dare they. He burned with fury. Ellen soon after pronounced dead by misadventure while abseiling. Dan felt vindicated as he lay alone in their bed. Conniving deceitful bitch.

His birthday spent alone and his ex-best friend’s message saying how heart-breaking it was – they’d planned such a fabulous celebration, and Ellen was so excited, looking forward to surprising him with her gift – the Antarctic trip he’d always dreamed of.

Demise, by Don Tassone

18/6/2021

Until 200 years ago, humans were all about growth. More wealth. More possessions. More people.

Then came the great reckoning, when the Earth could bear no more and humans decided to reverse course.

At last they had begun to come to grips with all the damage they had done over thousands of years. In a panic, they scaled back dramatically. They stopped acquiring. They stopped developing. They stopped expanding. They even stopped having children in order to preserve the limited resources left to them.

And so after 200,000 years, humans abruptly vanished, the only species to choose its own demise.

The Swimming Pool, by Janice Siderius

18/6/2021

Ginger stood beside the swimming pool, trying to decide whether to go in. The water was sparkling blue but a bit too cold for her liking. It didn’t really matter if the water was chilly because she wasn’t going to swim.

Her doctor had given her the devastating news today: the diagnosis was ALS. Ginger had watched her grandmother die of this disease. She had no intention of suffering like Noni had.

Ginger picked up the heavy concrete block, tied it to her foot, and jumped in the deep end. At the bottom of the pool, Noni took her hand.

Security, by Allison Symes

18/6/2021

The leprechaun was sure nobody could nick the gold now.

After all, how quickly could greedy humans get to the end of the rainbow anyway?

By the time they’d thought it through, the rainbow was gone. It was the perfect system - and he’d tell the big boss on his return to the office. Maybe a pay rise would be in the offing.

Sadly, the leprechaun had not reckoned with ingenuity or discovering humans were the least of his worries.

For some reason, he wasn’t prepared to argue with the dragon who swooped through and carried off the gold.

Oh Boy! by David Milner

18/6/2021

Three in the morning when I answered the phone. Some call me lonely.

“It’s your brother.” She began.

I picture him in his underpants, bottle in hand, raging at the moon.

“What else could it be?”

“He’s got a gun.”

I remember him taking his first steps, arms out for balance, chubby legs baby of the family… come on Bobby…. stumbling and falling towards me.

Not a car owner, see, I pedal at speed up a steep gradient into a sky of blackened ice; or so it appears to me. Phone ringing hard. Still. Some call me lonely.

Marooned, by Paul Gravanel

18/6/2021

Too brutal even for his fellow pirates, he was abandoned on the palm-fringed shore.

Waving his pistol and cutlass, he raged and cursed as they sailed away.

Resolving to claim the island as his own, he stormed inland in search of food and water.

The inhabitants soon surrounded him, all eager for the taste of human flesh.

His courage failed him and he used his single shot rather than fall alive into their clutches.

A century later a visiting naturalist rowed away from the island in frantic haste.

In his journal he wrote ‘The land crabs are most ferocious here’.

Show Reopening, by Krystyna Fedosejevs

18/6/2021

“It’s a surprise!” he beamed.

“We’ll be back in time for me to feed the homeless cat?” I asked, slipping on a casual outfit as advised.

“Of course, hon.”

Before leaving home, I sprinkled peanuts, seeds and bread on the patio for squirrels, blue jays, crows and magpies.

“Not one clue?” I asked, noticing his half-smiling lips.

“We’re supporting the Post-Covid local economy.”

“Shakespeare in the Park? Festa Italiana?”

He reached into his jacket pocket as we parked our vehicle.

“Here are the tickets,” he chirped. “…and a listing of all the feeding times.”

We entered the zoo.

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