Landing

If we hadn’t been watching them for years, pondering their moves, their moods, their governments; if we hadn’t probed several of their species, and winced when they inflamed their planet; if we hadn’t seen the hatred they exacted upon each other, and the disregard they displayed for the welfare of other life, we might have shown them patience, and considered their plea for refuge, when they landed their crude spaceship upon our soil. But we had seen too much, and knew all too well what they were capable of—and so we slew the humans as quickly as we could.

From Guest Contributor Wolfgang Wright

Wolfgang is the author of the comic novel Me and Gepe and the forthcoming science fiction novel Being. His short work has appeared in over forty literary magazines, including Dark Yonder, Oyster River Pages, and Paris Lit Up. He doesn’t tolerate gluten so well, quite enjoys watching British panel shows, and devotes a little time each day to contemplating the Tao. He lives in North Dakota.

Wake Me

You know that FOMO feeling when you realize your friends have been hanging out without you? Every insecurity threatens to overwhelm as you fear never being invited out again and wonder what horrible things were said about you in your absence?

That's how I feel every time I fall asleep. While I'm dreaming about tests unstudied for or mundane conversations with long-forgotten acquaintances, what amazing adventures might be happening in the waking world? It's enough to make one an insomniac.

Of course, every time I awaken from a particularly delicious dream I must worry about what fantasies I've left behind.

Anytime Anywhere

Dave and Heather sat in cafe and looked at their phones. There was a lot David wanted to say, but the place was crowded and he didn't want to be overheard.

He texted her instead.

I'm sorry.

For what?

Everything.

It's not an apology if you don't acknowledge what you did wrong.

Why'd she have to be so difficult?

I wasn't the one who broke her promise.

Still not an apology.

Heather set her phone on the table and looked out the window. Before the screenlock came on, David noticed she was looking at flight times.

So much for promises.

At Low Tide

In the wet sand, Sally, Chris, and Mel worked on their sand castles. The tide would soon turn. A few beach walkers stopped to observe the construction site.

"Look, two sand castles, and...?"

And what was that third thing? What the hell was Mel up to?

He looked up from his burnt, sandy hands that he thought were forming a castle also.

The walkers moved on toward the parking lot. They were long gone by high tide, as were the two proper sand castles and memories of them. But, still, they wondered what the hell had Mel been up to?

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

The Sword

Steel prices being what they were, a single sword was worth the same as a medium-sized village. We're just talking the value of the land, buildings, and farm animals. The human lives weren't counted, since they mostly had a negative cost the way these things were reckoned.

Walter kept his sword hidden below his floor boards. It was a secret that had belonged to his family for generations. His ancestors were once counted among the nobility. Now there was just this sword. He could sell it and feed his children, but this would be frowned upon by his financial advisor.

Dad

When I met my biological father, Robert, I was surprised at the similarities. We had a small mole on the left side of our temple, and I was left-handed, as he was. But the similarities stopped there. He was a selfish man. He left with another woman before I was born, and my mom had to be mother and father. Fortunately, she met my stepdad, and he made us a family.

As I sat and pondered, my arms around my mother, I knew blood didn’t matter. Charlie had been my dad in every way that counted.

Rest in peace, dad.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Fool In The Rain

The rejection stings. Dave stumbles down the sidewalk, absorbed in his own thoughts, oblivious to the people walking nearby or the rain pouring overhead. Motor memory guides him back to his apartment despite never making a decision to walk home. He's too preoccupied with being left standing on the curb looking a fool. The others were probably still laughing.

All he knows with any certainty is he will never allow himself to be in such a vulnerable position again.

If only he'd been a few seconds quicker, he could have boarded the bus before the door slammed in his face.

Lightning

“Are you ready?” Tim asked.

“Somewhat,” Clara answered, holding a child by the hand. “Who can be? Are you?”

“You want to know like the rest of us,” interjected another neighbour.

“It won’t be pretty,” Tim struggled, unable to say more.

A shuttle-bus pulled up to take them, along with others. They drove down Main Street. Shock froze their faces. Some sobbed.

“Mother nature started it,” the driver said, shaking his head.

Lightning struck the forest outside town limits. Wind fueled the flames in the direction of their town.

“My house is gone,” Clara choked back tears. “Yours too, Tim?”

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

The Walk

Spring is here. The annual renewal of the town means that colors abound, including in the faces of every passerby. People say hello to each other in a friendly manner that hasn't been seen since the previous year. The smiles are contagious.

Stephen, the town priest, is perhaps the only unhappy soul to be found. He sulks from the portico of the church as the healthy and eager parishioners who remain alive celebrate as if he weren't there.

Business was much better during the plague. For once in living memory the townspeople actually welcomed his ministry instead of the doctor's.

Island Of Souls

Simon woke up in the sand, waves lapping against his legs. For once his pants weren't soaking wet from urine.

He braced for a hangover to wash over him that never came. After a few moments he struggled to his feet, trying to piece together where he was and how he ended up here. Not the strangest place he's woken up, but he seemed far from a Starbucks. He'd even settle for a 7/11 at this point, but all he saw was the empty beach in either direction.

Maybe running away from his intervention had been a bad idea.