Baldwin

“Do you have it, Fred?”

“Got it.”

“And how about you, Lou?”

“Trust me. I've got it.”

“And Mel?”

Ed was head of the crew. They needed to take Mrs. Franzberg's piano up to the second floor. Ed repeated the question.

“Hey, you, Mel?”

“Piece ‘a cake, Ed.”

So now they were ready to lift the grand piano up the staircase.

“Okay… Here we go. One, two…”

“Wait a min…”

That was Mel.

“Three.”

Damn, Mel didn't have it again. There's always a weak link in piano transport. It was too bad, because it had been a very fine Baldwin.

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Funky

There was something funky about the way no one noticed as he walked the sidewalk.

The gentleman picking out fruit at the corner stand. The woman walking her dog towards him. The delivery man checking over the boxes in back of his truck. Never mind it was ten in the evening.

Not one person glanced in his direction.

He stopped at the newsstand, looked over the headlines, asked about the impending strike at the local paper. The vendor grunted noncommittally.

He fished into his pocket, as if looking for change, and drew in one smooth motion.

Everyone reacted at once.

Disintegration

"Imagine all of the possibilities!"

Debra completed the tour with a flourish and, rather than attempt the hard sell, left David and Barb to do the heavy lifting.

"I love it, honey." David cringed, having asked his wife to hide her enthusiasm. She was an eternal optimist, while he spent most of his waking hours dreaming of all the ways his life might begin crumbling around him. Opposites and all that.

While the two women huddled together like old friends, David anxiously anticipated closing on the property, and then watching as the house completely disintegrated in front of his eyes.

Traitor

The streets were eerily quiet, and I knew Nazis were lurking around. I stood in the woods and listened to the animals’ noises until I heard footsteps. It was the contact. He said the code word and I handed him the papers. He was gone as quickly as he came.

I was about to make my way back to the resistance when I heard another set of footsteps. I braced myself and reached for my weapon, but it was gone. Traitorous monster, I thought. He swiped my knife.

A Nazi appeared pointing a barrel of a gun to my head.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Crazy

"Don't call me that!"

"I didn't say you were crazy. I said this is crazy."

"I'm not crazy!"

Adrian and Eugene stared acrimoniously at each from across the bedchamber. They both understood what the other was thinking. Only one of them had a gun. Only one of them had threatened to kill themself if the other went through on their threat to leave forever.

Only one of them had contracted with a lesser demon to guarantee a lifetime spent together in mutual bliss, only to realize that bargaining with a fiend never ends well.

The whole situation really was crazy.

Wiser Now

As I listen to him lecture in the big hall surrounded by white boards full of equations, I know I can only swallow small sips from the fire hose of knowledge that flows from his mind and mouth, flooding the audience with his insight until it streams from their eyes, light filling the room and bouncing off the windows; and I must turn my mind from his most recent threat to divorce me to how it all started: a campus lawn, a daisy, the Quantum Uncertainty of petals on the subject of love─ he loves me, he loves me not.

From Guest Contributor Cheryl Snell

The Twilight Palace

Sydney looked at the atlas. There was no denying he was lost, to the point where he couldn't even be sure he was using the right map anymore. His phone had lost service hours ago.

A flash of reflected light caught his attention up ahead: some sort of structure spotted through the trees. He hurried forward hoping they'd have good WiFi.

As Sydney entered the clearing, a massive palace stood before him, with intricately carved roofs, marble fountains, and gold latticework. A white-robed fellow standing in the entrance smiled in his direction.

This looked nothing like the photos on Airbnb.

Next For Mel

“Choose.”

“What?” Mel was confused. It was 3 AM. Just moments before, he'd been pleasantly dreaming.

“You don't know what ‘choose’ means?”

“Huh?”

“CHOOSE, MEL!”

The irritated voice seemed to come from every direction, as though from out of a whirlwind.

“AND MAKE IT SOMETHING INANIMATE.”

This was it.

“TIME'S UP.”

Mel's life – if it could be called that – was over.

The angel had others to visit that Thursday and more important places to go.

“Couldn't I be a dog, or a goldfish?”

“REINCARNATION'S MAINLY INTO LIFELESS OBJECTS, MEL.”

People don't realize.

“Like...into an old basketball?”

“SO BE IT!”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Home For Christmas

I finished arranging the last of the ornaments on the Christmas tree. I pressed the switch and the bright red, green and blue lights lit the room, and the star topper sparkled.

The manger was arranged with Mary and Joseph beside the baby Jesus and the wise men holding their gifts.

My children were getting the milk and cookies ready for Santa Claus before going to bed and awakening to presents and my laughter, even though Hal wasn’t home.

I sat on the large sofa and sipped my hot cocoa when the doorbell rang.

My Hal, home from the war.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Movie Star

Sunglasses don't make the movie star, but any screen icon worthy of the name looks damn good in them. Rutherford Love knew this for a fact and was no exception.

He glided through the airport hidden from prying eyes. All the ordinary people passed by never realizing how close to greatness they were, stroked by the soft brush of fame. As long as the polycarbonate lenses covered his piercing blue eyes, he could travel completely incognito.

He didn't understand the physics behind their power, but there was no denying he was completely invisible.

"Mr. Love, can I get a selfie?"