Forks In The Road

Darcy and I stare at Walter through shatterproof glass at the prison during visiting hours.

Walter’s handcuffed knuckles, pressing against his temples, are white. “Toasting forks?! Those thirty-inch-long skewers you use for toasting marshmallows?”

I nod. “I put them out with the salad at dinner.”

“How could you?” he sputters.

Darcy grimaces. “Sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to get expelled for jabbing people.”

“It’s not your fault, Darce,” Walter says. “Mom should’ve known better than to give you the exact weapons I used for the trail of destruction that landed me here.”

I sigh. “I was trying to normalize them.”

From Guest Contributor Susmita Ramani

Up The Hill

The new boy lived in the old house on top of the hill. The house was abandoned years ago and every kid knew it was seriously haunted. If you rode your bike by at night, a witch could be seen standing in the window.

The new boy was shunned at school. He seemed normal enough, the first clue something was wrong. Only Ricky Landover sat with him at lunch, so he was shunned too.

When it turned out the new boy's parents were vampires, and every family in town was killed except the Landovers, it seemed a particularly harsh punishment.

Change Of Heart

Think of it as a substitute pump,” the surgeons encourage him. “Latest technology, stringent testing. Equally life-enhancing as the heart God gave you.”

Will it buy him time for his daughter’s imminent wedding? Or beyond, and a new grandchild?

“Side effects include problematic emotional disorders.”

Surely morning birdsong, leisurely travel, favourite classical music will quiet unexplained turmoil.

He acquiesces, yet flails against this plastic invader into his chest.

Without warning, a fog enwraps his mind, shrouds familiar feelings. The mystifying retreat of joy, sorrow, empathy panics him. Why has love for his daughter vanished?

Oblivious, his new heart pumps steadily.

From Guest Contributor Gary Thomson

Superhero

Pay attention to your other senses, the blind man said, words muffled by my failing ears. They’ll take over if you lose one. He laughed, and I pushed our shared plate of sushi towards him, because I knew his touch was in no way enhanced. I watched his lips then: I’m no superhero. In the silence, the sushi tasted the same, the salt of tamari, snap of wasabi. Still I'd hoped: I’d envisioned a saving grace, sniffing people out by their soap’s scent, the sweetness of body lotion. The blind man, wishing for another roll, groped around on the tablecloth.

From Guest Contributor Colleen Addison

Haunted

Megan watched Max watch TV. This went on for days. Max was too sad to do anything else. He'd stopped going to work. He wasn't seeing any friends. He even refused to answer the door. He just binged whatever old sitcom Netflix recommended next.

Max had always been stubborn. He refused to listen when anyone made a suggestion he hadn't thought of first.

But Megan was stubborn too. She'd keep haunting Max as long as it took to get him off the sofa and out of their house. She may be dead, but Max had a life still to lead.

Chloe

I loved the way Chloe licked her lips after an ice-cold drink, and when her long black hair blew in the breeze. When she tilted her face backward, she looked beautiful.

Chloe set up the picnic while I stood under the tree and watched. She was gorgeous in the way she shook the table cloth and neatly placed it on the grass.

The diamond ring was in my pocket, and I was set to propose on this bright warm, sunny day. She’d love it.

Chloe waved me over and I was ready. Then the unthinkable happened.

It thundered, then rained.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Their Saturday Morning Walk

“How was it Ed?”

By 10:30, Ed returned with Frodo, after their Saturday morning walk. Frodo, a Labrador retriever, immediately went to his food dish.

“I played fetch with Frodo in the park. He chased a squirrel, Edna, and they ran into the middle of a parade. I caught him, then we went by Sawyer's place.”

“Was his forsythia in bloom?”

Cornelius Sawyer had an almost pathological attraction to his bush.

“Yeah...Frodo peed all over it, Edna. Then Sawyer threw a brick at him.”

“That was it?”

“No, he threw a tennis racket at me.”

“Oh...So, nothing unusual.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Man's Best Friend

My wife said I treated Tobasco better than I treated the kids. I walked him three times a day.

I took him water skiing and skydiving. I fed him rib tips and chili for dinner. He's ridden shotgun

in my Ferrari more than my wife. She has a conniption because I gave Tobasco a 24-karat gold

funeral with a sterling silver tombstone and cremated her mother. The heifer didn't like me anyway.

Tobasco didn't complain about dinner, clothes, and require $1000 cell phones. He didn't fail in

school and talk back. Excuse me while I cry and blow snot everywhere.

From Guest Contributor Gary L. Dozier

Release The Hounds

The mob surrounded the exterior fence, wielding an array of weaponry, everything from baseball bats and hockey sticks to handguns and automatic weapons. Policy that made a lot of sense when the ire was directed at the liberal elites now seemed short-sighted.

"Thomas, let's see what they think of our dogs."

"Very good, sir."

He'd imported a dozen trained attack dogs from Israel. Not enough to fend off a hundred armed individuals, but he found it hard to believe these peasants were prepared to shoot an animal.

The barks dissipated faster than he expected.

"They came prepared, sir. With steaks."

Nameless Here Forever

Something in the manner the June sun slants through my bedroom window sears my heart.

It burns through, red-hot, singeing its muscles and sinews but not its memories.

For it was on a blistering day like this that terror, treachery, vengeance and death engulfed.

A whirling hate storm, sowed by unknown faces in unknown places, which ravaged my known.

We could neither resist nor understand these demons who killed without remorse.

Who left us with our dead, the dregs of our lives and nameless here forever.

My homecoming, ten years hence, brings deep summer sadness, which will remain within forever.

From Guest Contributor Chitra Gopalakrishnan