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When Silence Would’ve Been Golden, by Susmita Ramani

20/9/2024

 
Jemma ran in and shouted, “I can’t believe you!”

“Ugh,” said Brent. “I knew this day would come. I’m sorry I stole Mr. Furlicious and re-homed him with my sister in the country.”

“What?!” she yelled.

He grimaced. “He was almost hit by a car, you know? Outdoor cats aren’t safe in cities.”

“But I was frantic! I put up posters!” she shrilled. “That’s not even what I meant!”

“Oh!” He reddened. “I’m sorry. I only kissed Petal once.”

“You kissed my sister?!” she yelled.

“Uh, right,” he said slowly. “So then I…”

She moaned. “Ate my toffee ice cream.”

In the Margins, by Rani Jayakumar

20/9/2024

 
When Eda couldn't think of anything to write, she doodled. She typed nonsense. She scribbled on her phone screen. Sometimes she just doodled in the air, hands in her lap, in long meetings. Until the day she started doing it on her laptop during a meeting about editorial design, not realizing she was still sharing her screen. Suddenly the room went silent. "Eda!" her boss shouted. She snapped to attention, apologized and stopped sharing. "No, put that back up!" he barked. Sheepishly, she did. Next month, doodles were in the margins of every page of the magazine.

Awaiting a Call, by Tom Baldwin

20/9/2024

7 Comments

 
Every morning Elizabeth dressed with great care, applied her make-up and fussed with her hair until it was perfect. Then she sat by the phone and waited. The only time it rang nowadays was when her daughter called.

‘Hello, Mum. How are you today?’

‘I’m awaiting a very important call, dear.’

‘Oh, Mother. You’ve been awaiting a call for years now. Do you really think a producer is going to offer you a role after all this time?’

‘They’re just waiting for the right part for me, dear.’

‘Of course they are, Mum. Of course they are.’

7 Comments

The Beggar's Request, by Sivan Pillai

20/9/2024

 
I liked the old beggar woman sitting before the temple, reading a dog-eared book whenever she was free. One day, she asked me if I wanted to borrow some. They were all classics.
"Died while visiting her native place," her friend told me when asked about her long absence.
"Left this for you,'' she said, handing me a box.
The document was about her leaving a property in a prime location in the capital to me. She had also made me the nominee of her large bank account.
"Start a small beggar shelter with the money."

Call the Numbers, by Cheryl Dahlstrand

20/9/2024

 
As she aged, Gwen’s life narrowed and was less and less eventful. Her impact on society became increasingly limited.

To counteract this inevitable process, she realized it was survival of the luckiest as well as the fittest.

That explained her habitual behavior during weekly bingo games. She would approach the caller’s table, wipe her hands across the surface, then rub the front of her body.

“I’m just rubbin’ on the luck,” she would tell her neighbor player. “Here, want some luck?”

“Sure,” the neighbor would respond. “At ninety-eight, you should know.”

The very next game, her neighbor would always win.

A Haunting, by Sue Clayton

20/9/2024

 
Without children my life is an empty void. My only interest is investigating abandoned haunted houses.

Climbing a decaying staircase I hear a tinkling laugh that leads me further, up rotting steps to an attic room.

“Hello.” The room is shrouded in cobwebs. A rocking horse under layers of dust lurches to and fro. Moth eaten drapes adorn a child’s four poster bed. A little girl hosts a dolls’ tea party.

“Are you going to be my Mummy?”

I run from the room. At the bottom of the collapsed attic stairs lies my broken, lifeless body.

I am no longer childless.

The Great Bird God in the Sky, by Scott C. Holstad

20/9/2024

 
At 33,000 feet, Iowa is just a concept, a checkerboard design of fields.

When Johnny was young, he’d look up wondering about planes: how, who, where. He’d play pilot and knew how to fly, alone and brave. He imagined birds as the planes rose, their thoughts, the great bird god watching over all. Sometimes he’d get close to his treehouse’s edges and consider leaping, like an airplane to the ground, but never did.

Planes reached destinations, people exited and faced days minus fears of turbulence, heights, explosions or yapping strangers, peace provided by the great bird god in the sky.

Turnabout, by Don Tassone

20/9/2024

 
It started with a 150-year-old children’s classic being banned in public schools and libraries in one state. Some were concerned the main character, a boy, was “pro-Communist, subversive and racist.”

So the state passed a law banning that book — and 2,700 others. Other states followed suit. Soon thousands of beloved books were gone from shelves across the nation.

But then news stories and social media posts about questionable past comments by the politicians who had supported the book bans began to spring up.

“Out of context!” cried the politicians.

But within two years, they too were gone.

New Wheels, by Dawn Knox

20/9/2024

 
Theseus’s father awaited his son’s return with impatience. He’d warned his son about buying his last car. Everyone knew the Minotaur was a beast of a machine, useless for city driving; hard to park and fuel-thirsty.
Theseus had agreed and decided to part exchange it.
“Dad, I’m home.”
“What did you buy, son?”
“Come and see! It’s everything I’ve always wanted, sleek, elegant but easy to park. It costs little to run and has a built-in navigation system.”
Theseus’s father hurried after his son.
“See! It’s the new model Pegasus.” Theseus threw open the door to reveal a winged horse.

What’s In A Name? by Louise Arnott

20/9/2024

 
“Consider the consequences of individuals’ names.”
Carol was known for her pedantic verbiage and Dan accustomed to her illogical segues, was a skim listener.
His customary responses were a nod and/or “Sure.”
“Nicknames often are derived from initials, features, actions or diminutives hence, Sam from Stanley Andrew Mason, Monty from Montgomery.”
Dan cut in. “Brian Long was BLong, then Shorty. Greg was Fats for obvious reasons. Mom said she could have thrown away the broom with our dog Hoover around.”
“What thought went into your naming, Daniel Dean Lyons? Dan-D-Lyons. Neither pretty, nor useful, though fortunately not noxious company.”

The Need for Speed, by William P Adams

20/9/2024

 
Sonny rode the lightning again Friday. It was all he could think about as the workday slogged on. Sonny paced the office floor anxiously, willing the clock to hurry and show five pm. At 57, he knew his addiction was dangerous; one slight miscalculation could very well result in a horrible crash he may not survive. But the pull was exceedingly strong, and after experiencing the heart-pounding euphoria, it was difficult, if not impossible, to deny himself the intense pleasure.

With a brisk south wind gusting, Sonny’s powerful legs sped him northward at 28 Mph on the bicycle path home.

Just a Season, by Pamela Kennedy

20/9/2024

 
Summer is slipping by. The days are becoming perceptively shorter. Yet fireflies continue to dance among the flowers and ferns and the faint aromas of bbq's still linger in the air.

It's time to say so long to the brightness of the sun and the languishing hot days-to welcome leaves crunching beneath our footsteps and the crackling sounds of the fireplace.

You should be home with me, but you're not. You left me just like the summer days are leaving me. I'm missing you, but that feeling won't last forever. After all, the seasons don't last forever.

Upgrade, by Kayla Lang

20/9/2024

1 Comment

 
The package arrived in a sleek, metallic case. Ready to go, no installation required. And after a single charge, it would be completely self-sustaining, powered by solar and kinetic energy.

Amelia didn’t need the instruction manual; this wasn’t her first purchase. She ran the diagnostics and was satisfied when all systems flashed green.

Her girlfriends were smitten, saying he was definitely the one.

Amelia retired the old model and mused that choosing the customisations for the Jason BDX2400 Pro was the most fun she had in a long time. Posh British accent, tick. Charming personality, tick. World’s worst dancer, tick.
1 Comment

The Stuff in the Middle, by Alison Whiddon

20/9/2024

 
My mother looks much smaller today but I blame the angle of the iPad. She is okay with hellos and goodbyes, it's the stuff in the middle that gets lost. The volunteer points to the screen.
"There's your daughter."
I ask her if she enjoyed the Mother's Day flowers I sent.
Looking downward for several moments she concentrates, silent.
"They were pink and white."
"Oh yes!"
She smiles.
"They were beautiful."
My mother may no longer find the edge pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that is her life, but with those words I hear pieces of mine click into place.

The Hunt and the Hunter, by Todd Richard Feely

20/9/2024

2 Comments

 
My victim sleeps; a fatal error.

Does she rest so carelessly because of the walls and locked doors that surround her?

They are no barrier to such as I.

What has she done to merit being my prey?

Nothing; it is simply the way of things, the inevitable conjunction of my nature and hers.

Hunter and hunted.

I am inside her bed chamber now and still she senses nothing.

But then a flash of light and a sound awakens her.

And I settle for her affection and the promise of that new food with the chunks of fish in it.
2 Comments

Hannibal's Doctor Appointment, by CK Love

20/9/2024

4 Comments

 
Hannibal receives the bad news. His cholesterol, elevated. A mini heart attack.

His doctor delivers the news with aplomb: “Fatty proteins? Bad. High caloric items? Must avoid. Fruit and veg. Good.”

“Can’t. I’m a carni…” Doc shakes his head, wags his finger. “Hanni, not anymore.”

No use in arguing. He might as well resign himself to the fact that he would have to forego his favourite flesh treat of freshly fried fatty fingers.

The doctor smiles. “You’ll adjust. A new you.”

Hannibal’s stomach gurgles. He looks down at the doctor’s chubby little fingers. Is it lunchtime yet?
4 Comments

Watching, by Nelly Lakin

20/9/2024

1 Comment

 
The camera attached to his house, records all activity on or near the driveway. Away from home, notifications ping his phone whenever a person steps onto the gravel. Cars that pass by, day or night, are recorded too. With a fish-eye lens perspective, adjacent driveways are also covered. When tormentors obstruct his drive or let their dog foul his garden, the evidence is kept in cloud storage. With the council’s phone app activated to record decibels from anti-social behaviour, noise pollution can also be reported: for it to be ignored, again. Soon, all will have to be uninstalled... 
1 Comment

The Rich Man and the Beach, by Sua Kim

20/9/2024

 
A rich man lived in a large beach house with his wife and two children. One tragic day, his family perished in a car accident. Months later, the man dreamed that his wife and children were walking along the beach. He ran over and embraced them. The man woke up. He felt fresh and free of his grief, knowing that his family was happy in heaven, and that one day, he would join them. He donated his house to an orphanage. When he died, he finally reunited with his beloved family, after a long, happy life filled with good deeds.

The Institute of Aptly-Named Products, by Ian Willey

20/9/2024

1 Comment

 
It sits behind glass, the overhead lights giving it a divine glow. This, says the guide, is what kept civilization from crumbling. At first, they were suspect; even their creator forbade his children from using them. But these devices could connect people and, what’s more, mobilize them — hence their name, mobile phones. Over time, injustices flatlined; wars dwindled; tyrants fell. Filming oneself dancing in the cereal aisle became an inalienable right. It’s said that the creator’s last words were “oh wow, oh wow,” because he saw this future. Who knows if that’s true, but isn’t it pretty to think so?
1 Comment

A Movie Ending, by Gordon Lawrie

13/9/2024

 
Monday 4th November, 2024

“People say that I ramble but I’m actually brilliant I’m a very brilliant man and I don’t ramble I weave different themes together, in and out like a tapestry and it takes a very brilliant man to be able to do that, hold all those themes in his head but I can do that just like I don’t need to have a plan I only need to have a concept of a plan – ”

Suddenly, a huge space ship appears in the night sky. The crowd cowers.

A loud alien voice sighs towards the stage. “DT come home....”

A Violent Collision With The Self, by Stephen Goodlad

13/9/2024

5 Comments

 
Whilst leafing a second-hand book in Oxfam a newspaper cutting fell with a photograph of his childhood abuser. A grotesque mask of a man forty years on with an article about historical serial crimes. Victims had bravely spoken out and others followed. Years of stoically looking the other way when friendship was offered. Rictus smiles to conceal searing pain and acute shame. A laugh was merely an echo of hollow insides, yearning for sincere emotions; self-protection borne of comanding the chaos and pacifying the inevitable storm successfully with convincing fortitude. The next noise he heard was his own primal scream.
5 Comments

Cursed Year, by Gretchen VanOstrand

13/9/2024

3 Comments

 
Late summer leaves, brownish green sway earthward.Their dance entrances me from the kitchen window. A shrink may call it dissociating. I call it a respite.

In the distance, my phone is ringing and for just a millisecond, I wonder why she is calling me now. My heart sinks. Let it ring. The person whose call I often ignored and sometimes dreaded isn’t calling. The ringing silenced, I decided to listen to her voicemails instead, taking comfort in 2023, as 2024 is almost too much to bear. Dissociating really gets a bad rep.

3 Comments

Backyard Comfort, by William P Adams

13/9/2024

 
Editor's Choice
Thomas reached through the fence, stealthily plucked and tasted the red, ripe raspberries, and heard weeping from beyond the vines.

Small and vulnerable, sitting on the tear-stained garden bench, Sabine looked not at all like the most sparkling girl in grade eight. Concerned, Thomas entered her backyard through the gate.

“What’s wrong, Sabbie?”

She looked up. “Everything.”

“The divorce?”

She nodded.

“I felt the same way.”

Thomas sat beside her and tentatively put his arm around his classmate’s shoulder. Sabine leaned into his awkward embrace and their lips met, soft and salty-sweet – his stolen raspberries mingling with her dusky teardrops.

Still the One, by Tony Covatta

13/9/2024

15 Comments

 
1974

Nick drives Nina to the cinema. First date.


“I wonder what he’s thinking?”

“Great hair, nice body, good sense of humor.”

“He actually listens to my answers to his questions.”


“What an engaging, smart woman. I’ve never met one I’ve liked more.”

​
2024

Nick drives Nina home from the hospital. This will be their last trip.


“I wonder what he’s thinking?”

“I still like looking at her. And she’s never lost her sense of humor.”

“He listens so carefully to what those doctors are saying.”

“What a patient, long-suffering woman. I’ve never met one I would have loved more.”
15 Comments

Her Betrothed, by Dawn Knox

13/9/2024

4 Comments

 
Lucia held her hand up and wiggled her ring finger, displaying the flashing diamond ring to her friends. They crowded around her and squealed with delight.
“Wait!” You’re going out with Pinocchio, surely you don’t intend to marry him?” Maria said. Her eyes opened wide in alarm.
“I do,” said Lucia, beaming broadly.
“Are you mad? He’s the biggest liar in town.”
“That’s not true! All the men I know tell lies. And at least Pinocchio is reliable.”
“Reliable? Huh!”
“He’s the only man in town with a built-in lie-o-meter. If he lies to me, I know in an instant.”

4 Comments
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