Blog Archives

Forever Young, by Malvina Perova

29/11/2024

How can this not touch your heart? May it end soon – Editor

In my dream, the war was just a distant thunder. All four of us, a family, gathered in our living room to open presents and celebrate your thirty-ninth birthday. So big, so joyful was your smile when you said, like many times on the phone, that you wished for nothing but to be home with us.

I opened my eyes and stroked your pillow, with one short, fair hair still clinging to it. The air alert sirens wailed as if somebody was going to steal my country, but took you instead. “Happy birthday,” I whispered to my forever young husband.

Weather as Entertainment, by Don Tassone

29/11/2024

“Have you heard the forecast?” said one man to another.

“No.”

“They say we’re in for an atmospheric river.”

“A what?”

“A giant rainstorm.”

“Oh.”

“There’s one over the Pacific right now.”

“An atmospheric river?”

“Yeah, but it’s called a Pineapple Express.”

“Interesting.”

“At least it’s not a bomb cyclone.”

“What’s that?”

“A storm that develops really fast, then explodes.”

“Holy crap!”

“Could be worse.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It could be a supercell.”

“A supercell?”

“High winds, huge hail and tornadoes,” he said.

Then he looked at his watch.

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Dinner?”

“No, there’s a special on The Weather Channel.”

Neptune, Revisited, by Hope Mills

29/11/2024

Step off at Diamond Junction.
When the carbon mines at our planet’s core were discovered, I knew diamonds would be my livelihood. We invented an accelerator that boosted gems to our biggest market: Earth. But our investors wanted more.
Then came my grand idea. It takes six days for Triton to orbit Neptune; we built a tunnel to connect the closest point. Carbon crystallised faster there, and the turnaround tickled our investors. Soon, we had the market cornered. Cushion, princess, marquise – we did it all.

*

The message comes at midnight. Our investors have found cheaper labour on Uranus. What?!

Bad Hair Days, by William P Adams

29/11/2024

Jake never had a satisfying haircut. At three, he sat on the booster seat in the barber chair and had a chunk taken out of his ear. At thirteen, he asked for a Beatle cut and came away looking like Moe of the Three Stooges. At thirty, his barber insisted he try “business in front and party in the back.” In his forties, Jake found a stylist to his liking if only for the relaxing scalp massage during the shampoo and conditioning, but she only knew one style – Emperor Nero.

Jake went bald in his fifties, much to his delight.

Family Trouble, by Nicholas De Marino

29/11/2024

She left after I sniped the auction but before the damned thing arrived with expedited shipping for her thirtieth birthday. Two-and-a-half grand down the drain for a hunk of prison-scavenged thread colored with Kool-Aid and marker. It looks like a dumpstered Dollar Store Halloween decoration. What kinda weirdo actually gets off on this murderabilia crap? I warned her: when you look too long at the abyss … . And she looked way too long. Just check her Netflix queue. What am I supposed to do with this ugly-ass thing now? You know what? Screw your birthday, Charlie. And screw you, Charles Manson.

Addict, by Gordon Lawrie

29/11/2024

Alone in the house, her opportunity had finally arrived.

Furtively, she removed her illicit supply from her secret cupboard store. It was wrong, but she couldn’t help it. Months of work, of one-to-one therapy and attending MA sessions, would be undone in a few moments of weakness.

Every addict has his or her own method; she mainlined. Lubricating some toast with butter, she unscrewed the jar lid. It was now or never. Almost against her will, her hand applied some black heroin.

Closing her eyes, she allowed her mouth to ingest the irresistible preparation.

Marmite.

And so it began again.

The Scan, By Jeffrey Griffiths

29/11/2024

After a minute of reviewing mom’s medical history he says he wants to show us the scan. He turns his laptop to us. “You can see here,” he points to what is obviously her lung. “This area is a large mass.” He pauses to let it sink in. “It’s serious and I’m surprised you have felt good until recently.” He smiles. “You must have a strong body.”
Mom stares at the laptop screen. “Is there anything you can do?” She sounds calm and matter of fact.
He looks at mom and back to the image.

The Outliers, by Brad Cox

29/11/2024

The claim itself was as old as the ghosts supposedly occupying 108 Hastings Avenue. Adeline and Sienna Altman declared they lived in the most haunted house in Britain, which despite not having a sliver of evidence to support the accounts detailed in their fortnightly newsletter, made them venerated figureheads of the burgeoning paranormal movement in North West Wales.

They sought to push back against mocking columns from spiteful journalists, spontaneously asking one who was taking photos of the house to stay the night. The next morning, they checked the security camera to find they had conversed with thin air.

The Disembodied Neighbour, by Sivan Pillai

29/11/2024

Our neighbour John was always there, standing in front of his house, stopping all who passed the road. It was his habit to repeat the stories he had told several times. Never in a hurry to stop, we had to continue on our way rather rudely.
Then, my grandson suggested a remedy.
The next day, I didn't slow my bike even as Mr John hailed me, standing in the middle of the road. "Mr John must be unwell not to be seen on the road," I told my pillion rider loudly.
I saw a bewildered neighbour in the rearview mirror.

Zero-Sum Game, by Ken Poyner

29/11/2024

Quibble enjoys watching the action at the child exchange. He brings his folding chair, drink, trail mix. He arrives early to watch parents dragging or pushing their trades. Most bring boys or girls, wanting girls or boys. Others, more complex, look to swap bookish children for sports-minded. Craft talented for outdoorsy types. Parents identify their children’s trends, opt for different characteristics, seek other parents who match in opposite. Seldom finding a perfect fit, some parents return many times. Perhaps it is not the children, but the parents who go off the rails. But, for Quibble, this is entertainment, not investment.

I Seem To Have Misplaced My Glasses, by Sherri Bale

29/11/2024

I thought I was wearing them, but when I tried to tap the lens my finger instead encountered my eyeball. Now I’m having trouble seeing out of that eye. This is making it harder to find my glasses.

I thought they might be on my head. But nothing was there, not even hair. I didn’t find my specs perched upon my wife’s nose as has happened before, her squinting to read the newspaper.

I could use my phone’s flashlight to look under the bed. But I seem to have misplaced the phone.

Maybe when I find my car keys ...

Over and Out, by Mimi Grouse

29/11/2024

She returned to the land from where she'd come in the same way she had arrived: by ship. In anonymity, a statuesque woman in flowing grey robes whom everyone took to be a widow down on her luck. Throughout the voyage they heard her weeping in the cabin she never left and, when they docked one cold morning eleven weeks later, she waited until nightfall before slipping ashore, almost unobserved.
"Is that a crown she's carrying?' the Chief Mate asked his superior and the Captain nodded sadly.
'Lady Liberty. Dethroned, disgraced and deported. Her children are being persecuted as well.'

Fitting In, by Allison Symes

29/11/2024

Changing name was essential to fit in here. The thought of filling in countless forms made her shudder but once done, she could have her happy new life and pretend she’d never had another miserable one somewhere else.

There would no more laughter at the expense of the Fairy Kingdom’s clumsiest fairy.

Nor would there be more threats to turn her into a doll and send her to spend her life on the top of someone’s Christmas tree.

Here on Earth, she could be ordinary and fit in.

What name to choose? Ah, yes, she liked this.

She chose Allison.

I Could Have Walked Away, by Julie Evans

29/11/2024

I could have walked away. I could have got dressed, slipped on my black stilettos (the ones you said you loved so much), stepped out into the frosty moonlight and caught the night bus home. I could have simply shrugged when you told me it was only ever sex for you, said nothing to your smirking face (that would have been the coolest thing) and stopped to smile at myself in your hall mirror as I closed the door. I could have put that sharp-edged knife back safe inside your kitchen drawer, and simply walked away.

Colours We Were Born To Wear, by Demeris Queiros

29/11/2024

There were five of us born that year.
Ivory.
Carmine.
Olive.
Sienna.
Myself, Lapis.
We were each born from a colour. It stained our hair, tainted our clothes. The others born that year were happy with their colour. It suited their personalities, their demeanours, Ivory most especially. She looked so natural with her ivory hair, her ivory cotton clothes. I felt so awkward whenever I saw her.
My lapis wool dress, my lapis hair always felt so unnatural when compared to Ivory. Why couldn’t I be like her? Why was I born from this colour?

Father and Son, by Deborah Shrimplin

29/11/2024

One foggy Saturday morning around 3am, Robert and his eight-year-old son, Junior, stealthed toward the house Robert had targeted for a break-in.

"Follow me," Robert, a home security expert, said.

"I don't want to do it again," Junior said.

"You're only going to disarm the alarm on the back door just like I taught you."

Robert jimmied the small bathroom window, opened it and helped Junior crawl in.

After Junior disarmed the alarm, he thought, "My teacher says stealing is not right."

Then, he found the telephone, called 911 and unlocked the back door.

Good Will Parenting, by Cheryl Dahlstrand

29/11/2024

I always made time to look at baseball cards with you. Especially when you were ten years old.

Correction required here: you never looked at all my baseball cards. Never.

Wait. It was a ring binder full of baseball cards. You turned the pages and read the stats. It took hours.

Not hours. There were only nine card sleeves total. So I had to change them out whenever I got new players.

But I did look at every single one. Now do you remember?

Once. At age ten, it was very important. I think it only took five more minutes.

Sharing a Bed, by Ian Willey

29/11/2024

After Kaori died, Mike went back to Canada. There, after nearly four decades of monogamy, he began dating.

But there was one hurdle. In Japan, married couples sleep in separate futons, and Mike was so used to sleeping on his own that he couldn’t imagine sharing a bed. He was upfront about this with every woman he dated—and it ended each relationship promptly.

“It’s not you,” he told Jessica, as they were hiking. “I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Have you tried?” asked Jessica.

“I’m afraid to.”

“What would you do if you weren’t afraid?”

Mike took one step.

Negotiations, by Kevin Holochwost

29/11/2024

"You’ll live forever," the devil promised, his voice smooth like velvet. Eager to escape death’s grip, she signed the pact, thrilled by the thought of endless years. Centuries passed, and still, she wandered, alone in a world that grew colder with time. Her heart ached; her soul weary. The people she loved faded, leaving only shadows behind. Friends turned to strangers, faces blurred by time. She looked back on lives past: Memories flickered, moments folded; laughter, tears, stories told.
Immortality, once a blessing, had stolen more than death ever could. She longed for the end, but the devil never renegotiated.

Linguine alla Morta, by Katie DeBonville

29/11/2024

You’re not to blame. Of this, you are certain.

You absentmindedly twirl your linguine. You can’t fathom eating, but it’s a crime to ignore his impeccably prepared carbonara.

He was a cruel human being, but one hell of a chef.

The knife seems to be staring at you: it’s your personal Chekhov’s gun. But Chekhov didn’t put it on the table; he did. You had to use it.

It dawns on you: this is the last meal he’ll ever cook for you. You take a cautious bite, but the lump in your throat impedes your enjoyment.

Your appetite is dead.

Thresholds, by Maureen Telfer

29/11/2024

“Mum”
Such a simple word.
I am reading instructions on a microwaveable mini meal when you voice it, forcing me to turn around.
You stand transfigured in the glare of a winter sun flooding through the kitchen window, brushing aside lines etched by 93 years of living.
‘Mum?’ I smile a half challenge.
‘Mum,’ you insist, folding your too thin arms around me.
Such a simple word. Sometimes a milestone. This time a threshold.
I turn back to the microwave, twist the dial on your dinner, and listen to the sound of a door slamming ringing in my ears.

Hobbies, by David Sydney

29/11/2024

“An ant farm?”
“It'll be okay, Francine.”
“But what happens when all the ants die, Fred?”

They were in the kitchen discussing Little Fred's next hobby.
“You realize, the hamsters just died.”
She reminded Fred of earlier pets.
“And how about the goldfish?”
Francine had thrown out the contents of the goldfish bowl after Mr. and Mrs. Fish's death.

Fred reminded her that Little Fred wanted to be a surgeon.
“So?”
“It's better than his wish for a rat hospital.”
“Rats?”
“Right… I talked him out of it. I figured you'd prefer dead ants to dead rats.”

Banned Book Club, by Mary K. Curran

29/11/2024

Gal pals chat at brunch.

“How's your new Book Club?”

“Great! Reading a classic now from this long list of banned books.”

“I've read most of these. Who the hell is banning books today?”

“Ignorant, frightened fools who are angry, organized and well funded. They threaten schools, libraries and even readers. A Club member was recently assaulted while reading at the bus stop.”

“That's crazy!”

“Word is that an outside group is planning a series of Friday night book burnings.”

“That's dangerous! I want to join your Banned Book Club.”

“Absolutely, best to use a pen name for safety's sake.”

Beware the Bite at Night, by Simon Steven

29/11/2024

I don’t care how monstrously big the dog is. I’ve my gun and I’m going to stop it.

‘Hey, did you see anything run past?’

‘Sure did, ran down that alley. Never seen anything like it.’

And nor have I, but it bit my wife and I can’t let that happen to anyone else.

Too late. The alley is a dead end. Only walls and drainpipes. Impossible. I trudge back to the man.

‘Tell me, what exactly did you see?’

‘Like I said, seen nothing like it. A naked man, licking blood off his lips.’

The full moon glowed claret.

Euthanasia, by Virginia Ashberry

29/11/2024

Jim scans the coffee shop, and decides that the guy at the back, slouching on a stool, leaning sideways against the wall, is probably who he is looking for.

Jim strides up to him and demands: “I want a bag of whatever drug you are selling… in more than enough quantity to kill me.”

The guy reaches into his backpack, pulls out a bag with about 100 pills and shows it to Jim.

“$500.” The man smirks.

“You’re the fifth so far today… I used to be just a drug dealer. Now I’m a ‘Euthanizer’ too.”

Jim pays the man.

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