Add One More Day

Positive and quarantined at home, my days edge along like a snail. Immersed in social media and Netflix, suddenly, I gasp for oxygen. Panting for a breath, I’m rushed to the hospital. Tethered to oxygen, I yearn to hug and cradle my child. I have to bake her birthday cake. I want to see her victorious smile when I lose at UNO. I must leave a lingering kiss on my husband’s lips. Flustered by my thoughts, I inhale into darkness.

Cool air blows as the blanket is snatched off me. “Mom, the Zoom password is incorrect.” I breathe in relief.

From Guest Contributor Hetal Shah

Hetal graduated with her Bachelor of Commerce from SIES. She lives in Mumbai with her husband, son, and daughter. She rekindled her hobby of writing over the past year. She is the winner of Mumbai Poetry League 2020, and her poem was published in an anthology by Poets of Mumbai called Guldastaa A Bouquet of Poems. She also writes flash fiction, and has been published twice on 101words.org. She loves to read, and especially enjoys reading and writing stories of romance and everyday life. Besides writing, she enjoys cooking new cuisines, traveling, and singing.

Search

I scramble the room for the file. Many lives depend on the information, including mine. When I accepted this job, I knew the risks involved and didn’t care. Now I just want to go back to my life.

Where is it? I search the desk drawer and every cabinet, but nothing. Major Thompson may be wrong. I swear quietly. It is not here.

Outside the sirens roar and car doors slam. Yelling soon follows.

I slip out onto the ledge and wait for their destruction to end before entering the room again.

The Nazi’s didn’t catch me. Not this time.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

You

Run.Feet crush the leaves; waves of terror crawl your spine.Slide.A tree – a savior! Red drops drip down from your ears to the ground.Crack!Terror returns like an old friend. It seems now is your end.Look.A challenge beckons you. Leaning around the bark, you peak into the clearing.Empty?Before you can contemplate, a hand wraps around your throat.“Missed me?”The version of yourself you keep locked away smirks at you.“I’m afraid of the dark.”The clearing dissipates as you are released.Clink!Chains now hold you down.“I don’t want to disappear.”

From Guest Contributor Sydney Clark

Sweet Revenge

“Trespassers deserve to be punished,” Ralph stated. “They have no business being on property they’re not entitled to.”

He stared at his damaged lawn.

Jeremy winced. “You sure about that? Might’ve been here before you.”

Ralph scratched his chin. “Okay, they’re diligent workers but they aren’t working for me.”

“How about you forget and forgive. Better still, prepare a nice meal for them.”

“That’s what I had in mind. Got all the fixings right here in my bag.“

After mixing up the concoction and serving it, Ralph watched.

With the sweet taste of sugar, the ants entered their underground home.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She resides in Edmonton, Canada.

Napoleon In Rags

It was the season of mists. He had been forced by necessity to pawn his one good pair of pants. Now that he couldn’t confidently appear in public, he sat sulking in his underwear at the kitchen table. He couldn’t remember, Josephine wasn’t there to remind him, what it was like to live in anticipation of making love. Adversaries swooped around him like moon-crazed bats. If he had had a suicide pill, he might have taken it. The world only ever really pays attention when there is a panic or a traveling guillotine or when all the soldiers have syphilis.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is the author most recently of the poetry collection Gunmetal Sky (Thirty West Publishing).

Brief Affair

On night three of a four-day meeting, four of us drank in a bar. I played up to Jim, who was 20 years older, the boss, and buying.

A young blonde walked up and clasped Jim’s shoulder. “Let’s dance.”

Jim cut out faster than our company bonuses.

“She should be carded,” Tony said.

Jim returned quickly and gulped his drink. He signaled for a refill.

“You’re early,” Phil said. “I didn’t expect you ‘til morning.”

Phil, why don’t you suck up to the boss?

“Was she a pro?” Tony asked.

“She shanghaied me,” Jim said, “to dance with her mother.”

From Guest Contributor Tom Snethen

Tom is an Oregonian writing about the scoundrels he met in the chemical industry and being alone and scared as a widower at fifty.

It’s Time To Go

Honey, it’s time to go, Dad said. It was dark by the time they arrived home. Of course, he was right. He was always right. Had been 50 years ago, and every day of her life. It used to be frustrating, but now it was calming and reassuring. Rock solid, steady and consistent, never flashy. Feeble now, he spent most of the day in bed, save for an hour phone call every day. She cherished those calls ending with gotta go and a dial tone. His last call ended with Honey, it’s time to go. Goodbye. And he was right.From Guest Contributor N.T. Franklin

NT Franklin has been published in Page and Spine, Fiction on the Web, 101 Words, Friday Flash Fiction, CafeLit, Madswirl, Postcard Shorts, 404 Words, Scarlet Leaf Review, Freedom Fiction, Burrst, Entropy, Alsina Publishing, Fifty-word stories, Dime Show Review, among others.

Tremors

My clammy palms drip sweat and my icy feet shiver. I barely fit on this stiff, creaky bed. From the haunted murkiness, a shadow emerges and creeps around.

Drowning in the claustrophobic silence, I am trapped. No one hears my heart’s pounding rattle. As he looms from the dark, my throbbing stomach twinges and my wobbly legs quiver.

He lifts the thin sheet off of my legs and I clench my fists timorously. I tremble in trepidation as he plunges the invasive latex-covered wand into my body.

Moments later, he tenderly pulls it out and smiles. “Your baby is healthy.”

From Guest Contributor Hetal Shah

Hetal graduated with her Bachelor of Commerce from SIES. She lives in Mumbai with her husband, son, and daughter. She rekindled her hobby of writing over the past year. She is the winner of Mumbai Poetry League 2020, and her poem was published in an anthology by Poets of Mumbai called Guldastaa A Bouquet of Poems. She also writes flash fiction, and has been published twice on 101words.org. She loves to read, and especially enjoys reading and writing stories of romance and everyday life. Besides writing, she enjoys cooking new cuisines, traveling, and singing.

Rider Of The Wind

Daylight spills over the trees, onto bones in our yard. A wind rattles the forest. We tense with fear. Before, we tended gardens, chopped wood, prepared for the next season. Now, we turn our homestead into a church, with crucifixes everywhere.

The minister won’t come.

We string garlic from the eaves, board our windows.

The wind steals our breath.

Father announces a plan. At dusk, as bait, I stand among animal and human bones. Behind me, through the cracked door, father points his rifle, waiting to shoot.

Inside the house, mother mourns her dead children.

Overhead, something rides the wind.From Guest Contributor Russell Richardson

Russell has written and published many short stories, illustrated a book of poetry, and created children's books to benefit kids with cancer. His YA novel, Level Up and Die! was published in April of 2021. He lives with his wife and sons in Binghamton, NY, the carousel capital of the world.

Everything Will Be Perfect

She exclaims into the camera with twice as much enthusiasm. Smiling at herself, she admires her smoky eyeliner, sleek black cat frames, and her hair’s feathered highlights, with its slight curl held in place with a butterfly barrette. Hard to believe she’s afraid of losing her upper hand— her grip that keeps the focus on her. Even though, she knows she has run out of excuses to stay home. She's just worried sick about everyone. So, she must make do with sharp sound bites, while her inner voice bounces like a loose tin can, tumbling down another dark side street.From Guest Contributor M.J. Iuppa

M.J.’s 100-word stories have appeared most recently in 100 Word Story, Eunoia Review, Milk Candy Review, Otoliths, PIF Magazine, The Drabble Review, The Dribble Drabble Review, A Story in 100 Words, and others. For the past 33 years, she has lived on a small farm near the shores of Lake Ontario. Check out her blog: mjiuppa.blogspot.com for her musings on writing, sustainability & life’s stew.