Filmgoers

Many winters ago the blizzard buried Negotin in white noise. Snow sealed doors, and the wind was sending SOS signals all over the town. Power lines were lying in the fields, houses went blind and breath turned to frost.

Only the old cinema stood like a lone lighthouse against the storm. Its generator pulsated like a tired heart. The theater was full, but no one spoke. When the movie began, I realized the actors were the audience themselves, levitating across the screen.

Slowly, the faceless crowd turned toward me. They weren’t watching the movie.

They wanted me to stay forever.

From Guest Contributor Ivan Ristic

Starlust

Professor Dutton had a theory that the problem with the universe was the stars. They were too greedy, and lusted after everything, until they imploded and became black holes. If we could distribute all that energy a bit more judiciously, so that it didn't bunch up so egregiously that the stars began consuming everything around them, then we wouldn't have to worry about the heat death of the universe. According to his calculations, it was also the fault of the stars that the universe was forever expanding.

"And thus, I present my plan to destroy every star in the galaxy."

Nothing

Andrea spent a lot of time thinking about nothing. To her surprise, when her parents or boyfriend asked her what she was thinking about, her reply always seemed to annoy them. The concept of nothing was so eternally fascinating. She'd try and engage them on the topic, but they insisted she was being distant.

Oh well.

Like, does nothing even exist? There's clearly something, lots of things, so it seemed to Andrea that nothing was just something we imagined.

She was so deep in thought, she failed to notice her teacher staring at her.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

Interstellar Rebellion

"Red Alert!"

Captain Spiff dashed to the bridge of his sentinel frigate, shocked at what he found. Thousands of enemy warcraft descended on the capitol planet's defenses, seemingly out of nowhere.

Emperor Devane had ruled the galaxy for more than 2700 CR (Capitol Revolutions) with no hint of rebellion. Entire systems were wiped out for causing the slightest upset to the Emperor's mood. Coordinating such an attack must have taken years, yet his daily security briefing had offered zero hint of the possibility.

Spiff's final thought was to contemplate what promotion might be available were he to defeat these insurgents.

Nothing

The engine gives out and we’re about to crash. I guide the plane as best I can and brace for impact. Then there’s blackness.

When I wake, Ted has a blank stare, and his head is twisted in an awkward position. He’s dead.

The bone in my left ankle is protruding from the skin and I’m having trouble breathing. I’m sure I’ve ruptured my ribs.

The door is jammed and I can’t walk. The airplane will soon explode and there’s nowhere to go. I say a silent prayer and close my eyes.

There’s a crackling noise, flames and then nothing.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Be Easy

Tomas nervously made his way to his seat at the very back of the lecture hall. He'd originally staked out this spot to avoid being called on during class discussion, but if it afforded him the opportunity to surreptitiously glance at his neighbors' test answers, that was just a happy accident.

He prayed this final was easy. He needed an A on the exam to ensure a passing grade. Failure meant his dreams of medical school would be over.

The first question contained the word "Gluconeogenesis."

Tomas stood and walked out of the classroom. The world needs car mechanics too.

Roses

Apprehension accompanied me to my car. How would they react? With sadness? Indifference?I placed the bouquet lovingly into the trunk, holding back tears.

The intended beholders knew nothing of its history. Nor of the person who presented it to me. Roses, once of warmth and vivid pink, had crumpled to shades of aged dryness. Like his love did, when he left for another and I didn’t realize he meant it for real.

I set the vase onto my desk in the classroom, for my art students to observe, interpret and present their creativity onto canvas—of a life stilled.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Trick Play

"Ooh, a street magician. Let's watch!"

Bill kept his sigh to himself, not wanting to disappoint his date. Women always enjoyed vapid entertainments and he was used to indulging them. At least in the beginning.

"Sure."

This magician seemed to be of the most mundane sort, relying on rudimentary sleight of hand and clumsy misdirection. Bill had seen all these tricks on YouTube and delighted in calling out the techniques to the onlookers and ruining the illusion. Sheila dragged him away with an embarrassed apology.

It wasn't until the waitress brought the check that Bill realized his wallet had disappeared.

Always Everywhere

She's haunting him everywhere he goes.

She's reflected in the mirror when the lights go black. She's in the storm clouds chasing him through the day. She's the hum of the air conditioner cranked ten degrees too cold. She's the wetness soaking through his clothes in the rain.

He doesn't mind. Ghosts lose the power to terrify when you're addicted to the jump scare. She promised him she'd never leave and if nothing else, knowing that she's true to her vow is enough for him to hold on to.

He never would have imagined himself living in a romantic fantasy.

The Midnight Shock

Manny started awake in the middle of the night. A commotion outside his bedroom window sounded like someone had been electrocuted while being drowned in a metallic barrel.

He carefully peered through the blinds, the lights off so as not to draw attention. This might be some kind of zombie invasion or purge situation. But whatever created all that noise was nowhere to be seen.

Manny waited a few moments, then laid back down and fell asleep.

The next morning, the headline read, "The Midnight Shock Serial Killer Strikes Again." His preferred method of killing: electrocution in a metal barrel.