Blog Archives

I savour my Blue Mountain coffee as though I drank from the Holy Grail.

Two policemen escort Joe, my ex-fiancé, to their vehicle with his hands cuffed behind his back. He stumbles, and his head connects with the car door as they open it.

I smirk and sip.

I still have to visit the doctor and take his report to the police station. Someone with a purpling eye, split lip, and bruises peppering their torso gawks at me in the bathroom mirror, and I glare back.

I pour the coffee down the drain. “No more Joe for me. I quit.”

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A New Record, by Teri Wright

22/9/2023

I ease the 7 inch vinyl out of the sleeve. The latest single of my favourite group. As the melody begins, I imagine I am the lead singer. Hairbrush in hand, I mouth the words whilst strutting across the carpet.

The record jumps on the turntable, the needle jerks.
I inhale sharply.
Gently move the needle back to the edge. Cross my fingers that there are no scratches.

I start my routine again, but with softer dance moves.

I repeat this process another seventy times before Mum bangs on my door to tell me it’s bedtime.

Seventy!
A new record.

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By the Riverbank, by Bill Cox

22/9/2023

By the riverbank, where first I held your hand. By the riverbank, where I first uttered the words ‘I love you.’

By the riverbank, where I saw you kiss my best friend with a passion I didn’t recognise.

By the riverbank, whose storm-swelled waters raged and churned in sympathy with my tempestuous emotions.

By the riverbank, where I pushed you into the frigid waters and watched you vanish downstream.

By the riverbank, where I walk with our son each day, teaching him to be a better man, free from the sins of his parents.

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Same Old - Same Old, by Virginia Ashberry

22/9/2023

Five quiet, slumped old men clutch cups of cheap, weak, but milky sweet coffee. All stare out the narrow slit of window before them, from their usual stool seats along a shallow orange counter. They each contemplate the same brief field of concrete, at the same time every day.

Then their once, or twice a day treat. A young bare belly-button sashays past their limited view.

All, to a man, push shoulders back, rise slightly, reach behind, and hike up their pants.

Stilted conversation about weather and sports then ensues for at least two minutes before their comfortable quiet returns.

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Our Time Will Come, by Brian Taylor

22/9/2023

Sometimes after work, but usually on weekends, she and I'd sit outside, hold hands, drink beer, and look towards the stars.

I'd say, "Our time will come." She'd smile.

Our marriage seemed strong, but the money wasn't. Everything got more expensive; bills, groceries, unreliable vehicles, etc.

Despite this, she still wanted a baby. I'd answer, half-heartedly, "Maybe someday."

We divorced last year. Mostly friendly, but it still hurt. Several of our friends tell me she seems really happy lately; almost glowing.

I never wanted to know that.

I told her our time would come. Turns out I was only half-right.

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Playing Away, by Tom Baldwin

22/9/2023

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Jason’s phone hummed but he was too preoccupied to look at it. As he and Sonia relaxed afterwards, she said, ‘Is that from your wife?’

He glanced at the text. ‘No. Just a reminder for a dental appointment.’

While Sonia showered he opened it again. ‘I want us to…’ Jason’s wife spared no details about exactly what she wanted them to do.

Jason drove home, hoping he would have recovered enough to satisfy her. To his surprise she seemed ready to go out.

‘I got your text, babe,’ he said.

‘Text? I never sent you a text, Jason. Uh-oh…’

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Suppressed, by Paul A. Freeman

22/9/2023

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Editor's Choice

I leave home for the top-secret meeting.

En route, unusually, it’s red lights all the way. Then Jessica calls.

“I got all D’s!” wails my straight A’s daughter.

“It must be a mistake. I’ll talk to the school,” I promise her, before Seth, my AI assistant, interrupts us.

“At today’s Suppression of AI meeting, you’ll vote ‘No’,” Seth informs me. “Otherwise, next time it won’t be inconvenient traffic signals. It’ll be a head-on collision with an autonomous lorry, with Jessica sat beside you.”

Next morning, while Jessica bathes in straight A’s glory, it’s green lights all the way to work.

17 Comments

The Friendly Neighborhood Market, by Azmi Nehad

22/9/2023

On my first day in a foreign country, hungry, alone, and language-confused. Hunger drove me to a small market. Holding out a $20 bill. The man shook his head, misunderstanding my intention. He thought I sought to exchange my Dollars for the local currency. Desperately tried to clarify. "Do you speak -my native- language?" his wife inquired. They exchanged my dollars, despite being a small neighborhood market.

I bought groceries and ate my first meal in this foreign country thanks to them. Until that day, I buy from their small store, and sometimes, I chat with the kind wife.

3 Comments

Simulation, by Ofir Oz

22/9/2023

In the beginning, God programmed the heaven and the earth.
And the earth was a singularity, and darkness was upon the light.
And the Spirit of God was hovering upon the code lines.
And God said, Let there be a Big Bang: and there was a Big Bang.
And God defined quarks and leptons, electrons, protons, and neutrons.
And God encoded atoms and molecules, suns and galaxies.
And there was the earth.
And God said, Let us make Man, encoding them with reason. Let them dance for us, entertain us.
And there was light and there was darkness, one second.

3 Comments

Of Poppycock and Flapdoodle, by Sherri Bale

22/9/2023

Petey and I sit on the couch together watching the news every evening. I drink tea, and Petey licks his balls. Recently, things in the political arena have been heating up. Sometimes I find myself yelling at the television. Petey usually just gives me the side-eye and goes back to licking.

I turned the TV off abruptly last night. I could feel my blood pressure rising dangerously and I wouldn’t be able to sleep.

Petey raised his head from between his legs and said, “I can take just so much balderdash from that blatherskite,” and we headed upstairs to bed.

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Defeats, by David Sydney

22/9/2023

The Newtown Bluebirds were winless so far in the Little League season. What were the chances of losing three 19-0 games in a row? Coach Fromberg called his players together for a talk.
"You can't win them all," he began.
"But could we lose every game, Coach?"
"Let's not have defeatist talk here, Eddie." The second-baseman was a poor fielder and hitter. He at least drew a walk in the last game.
"So, you think we can actually win one?"
Mel Fromberg stared at the young, hopeful faces. The Bluebirds? A win? Was he prepared to go that far?

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Wheels in Motion, by Krystyna Fedosejevs

22/9/2023

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“It’s not busy. You have time,” assured a woman returning to the table.

Katia walked into the hallway discovering that a lineup had already formed.

Waiting for her turn, she plucked words from a crescendo of overlapping dialogue in the eatery she had left. Lasagna smells swirled with coffee into her space whenever the door opened.

How odd, she thought, departing the washroom. No chatter? Panic pivoted her legs into a feverish stride. She darted through the hallway, sprung the cafeteria door open…

Someone noticed her frantic circling in the parking lot.

“Looking for the bus? It departed minutes ago.”

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Secrets, by Allison Symes

22/9/2023

‘Mary Wentworth thought we peasants wouldn’t notice her scraping cakes at her first fete, vicar. Her cakes afterwards were brilliant! We loved them. We mocked the first lot.’

The vicar recalled her great-aunt’s diary. It’d taken years to track Mary. Abusive family had to go first.

Nice people. They think I’m a snob. Won’t reveal I’m Lady Mary Cuthburton, hell escapee. I’ll appear foolish so people laugh. I’ll create a tribute to King Alfred for their fete. Next year they’ll know I can bake. That’ll work.

‘To Mary of blessed memory,’ the vicar said.

The crowd around the graveside applauded.

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Currying Favour, by Sue Clayton

22/9/2023

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“I’ll have the Rogan Josh, too.” I’d need to curry favour on our first date.

A steaming bowl of delicious looking lamb in a rich red sauce arrives. I’d never tried curry but want something in common with my hot date, before we began talking about other topics, such as our likes and dislikes.

“Hot, hot, hot.” Mortified, I spit out a mouthful, spraying lamb pieces over the white tablecloth. And Barry.

“Sorry.” I fan my mouth, gulp down a cooling glass of white wine.

Barry doesn’t seem to think I’m hot. Seems I’m a dislike. No second date.

13 Comments

Keeping Mum, by Michael Henry

22/9/2023

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Norman looked at his little sister intently.
“Not a word of this to anyone,” he admonished with a finger to his lips. “It’s Mum’s birthday but, just like last year, we’re going to make it a private party, just you, me, and her.”
The eight-year-old raised an eyebrow and looked her older brother straight in the face. It was a look befitting one of more senior years and made him feel slightly uncomfortable though he strove to hide it from her.
“I’m not dumb, you know,” she pouted. “We both know why Dad won’t be here.”

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The Bread of Life, by Mary Daurio

22/9/2023

The bakeshop window beckoned with loaves of golden brown. Hanson turned his pockets inside out to no avail. His stomach gurgled and growled just as empty.
Alice, exiting the shop, her arms full of fragrant packages, noticed the forlorn boy. One of the paperbound goods topping the pile slid off.
Handson stooped to pick it up. “Here you go, Ma'am.”
Alice smiled pensively and handed him one of the plump loaves. “It seems I have more than one person's needs.”
“Thank you for your kindness, Ma'am.”
After bidding the boy adieu, Alice said quietly, “Take this in remembrance of me.”

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The Tricks of Trade, by Sivan Pillai

22/9/2023

Sounds came from upstairs. I was not worried as there was nothing valuable to take.
They were looking for the mysterious bundle handed over to me by a stranger after midnight. He had told me who suggested my name.
Memories of the past flooded my mind.
"Keep it for the night. No questions would be asked if you lost it. Some are after it, watching my movements."
"It's in the stack of coconut husks in the compound," I told my bewildered visitor in the morning.
All smiles, he thanked me.
He didn't know I was a thief once.

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Human Prey, by Brian Mackinney

22/9/2023

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My way down the path was blocked by an unseen obstacle. It stopped me but it wasn’t there. I could feel it but I couldn’t see it.

I stepped back and reached out as the tingle dangled across the back of my hand. I could feel the force in the empty space.

The invisible wire stretching across two bushes was swinging gently carrying its load nervously wondering what would happen next. It was so delicate it seemed cruel to break it so I could continue.

My dilemma was whether it would trap me and wrap me in my own spider gate.

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Les, by Don Tassone

22/9/2023

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Les stepped back to look at his latest creation, a metal sculpture, and sighed.

Once again, he’d overdone it. In his zeal to fashion something stunning, he’d packed too much into this piece, which resembled a tangled web of wire rods. Why was the first version of his art always overwrought?

Les grabbed some wire cutters and began pruning. When he’d removed most of the rods, he stepped back to look again. His creation was now a masterpiece, striking in its simplicity.

Then the famous artist knelt down and, on the base of his sculpture, signed his name: Les Izmore.

18 Comments

Career Choice, by Bruce Gunther

22/9/2023

Dan dreaded the family reunion for many reasons, not the least of which was that his brother would question his career choice again.

He could hear his brother's voice: “A writer? There can’t be any money in writing!”

Dan was distracted for days by how he’d respond. How could he explain his passion to someone who cherished material things, who claimed that “He who has the most toys wins.”

The day of the reunion was hot and humid. Dan was sipping a beer when his brother approached. The perfect response was on his lips.

But would he say it?

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Closeted, by Alyce Clark

22/9/2023

7 Comments

She finds her feelings taped to the wall in the back of her closet.

Hidden.

Hopes, goals, dreams, inspirations, clever ideas, thoughts, plans…

The best parts of herself shut away in the darkness.

Bullying, cruelty, callous words, and comments have yielded their impact.

She’s tired.

These long-forgotten feelings and unachieved dreams take her by surprise. Their weight is staggering. So many unattempted.

“That’s gotta change,” the fighter in her says. Clinging to the paper in her hands, she realizes it’s a lifeline. This is who she really is.

She boldly walks out of the closet and back into the world.

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The Epiphany, by Ian Willey

22/9/2023

As I hovered over my broken body, bathed in brilliant light, a voice from above told me not to worry, you will be fine.

“Whoa,” I said. “I’m having a near-death experience.”

“That’s right,” said the voice.

I said, “I’ve always wondered, how many people have these experiences and then die? We only ever hear from the survivors.”

“All will be well,” intoned the voice.

“You’re dodging the question. This is amazing and all, but if I die now, who will hear my story?”

I could feel the presence above me smiling. I realized I’d just asked a rhetorical question.

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Rainbow Aid, by Malvina Perova

22/9/2023