The Discovery

Professor Viterbi puffed up like an overripe seed pod, ready to shower his discovery all over the conference delegates in their seats.

"We have discovered a species with left handed DNA. This means life on Earth started not just once, but two or more times."

The delegates' jaws dropped; mouths like pitcher plants waiting for further details to fall in.

"This organism has been in front of our noses all the time. The common toenail fungus."

Half the delegates gave Professor Viterbi a standing ovation. The other half removed their shoes and socks, and stared at their toes in wonder.

From Guest Contributor Ross Clement

Youth

It started out from minimalism – a certain connection yet to be plowed. Hands touching, eyes linking, and smiles fleeting. A natural happenstance around the daily living.

“I want to explore this with you.”

Willpower surged around my lungs – please, do the same.

“Yet we are so young, remember? We must be fools!” Apprehensions coiled your tone, but I understood. I feared it too.

“I think we should brave this feeling.”

“What if it fails? We don’t know what we are doing. What if it’s all a waste?”

“Are you willing to gamble?”

A beat of silence.

You gripped my hand.

From Guest Contributor Matthew Burgos

The First Alien Invasion

The First Alien Invasion, also known as The Real War of The Worlds (2029 - 2040) was a conflict of extrasolar[citation needed] aliens with Earth governments and international organizations - US, China, Russia, and NATO[1][2]. The immediate cause was an invasion of aliens to Mars. The aliens built a few structures on the surface and remained silent during attempts to communicate via Mars rovers’ signals, satellites, radio, and laser transmissions. The US and China’s ballistic missiles sent to Mars were destroyed on approach [8]:415. The subsequent attack by the United Earth fleet found Mars abandoned, structures spelling “Welcome to Mars.”

From Guest Contributor Vicki Doronina

Turning The Tables

The darkness was like ink, but that did not bother the mouse's keen eye sight, and smell told him where to go for the food. Its tiny heart was racing with fear because its mortal enemy was out and about as well. He’d lost several of his litter mates to that awful feline beast, but tonight things may be different.

Suddenly there was that awful snarl. Behind him its claws slashing through the air, where he’d been just seconds ago. Twisting and turning, he dodged; suddenly that awful snap of the trap! The cat cried out, the mouse scurried away.From Guest Contributor Derrick Fernie

Comparison

He stood mesmerized by the depth and variety of the spice-stall’s palette; deep reds to yellows that hurt the eyes so much he had to close them, having to be satisfied with inhaling the melange of aromas.

The taste of burger was still in his mouth from the fast food outlet around the corner. It felt cheap and nasty in such company. He felt shame.

Then he felt a piercing violation of flesh and fell forward, arms failing to move to cushion. The chain securing the briefcase was snipped. Bolt cutters, he thought as his brighter red smothered the fruit.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

Newsletter Correction

Hi everyone. Due to an Auto Save snafu, and a lack of careful proofreading, I allowed a paragraph to sneak through in my interview with Perry McDaid that actually was an excerpt from last month's interview with Kelli Allen. Here is the portion of the interview that was incorrectly used:

I grew-up as a military brat, an only child, and have thus not quite yet figured out what “home” means. For now, I occupy space in the Midwest and spend most of the Spring and Summer months hoping to avoid tornadoes and mutant insects. Whenever possible, I travel and typically land on a beach. I have collected various degrees and have nestled nicely into an academe womb wherein I can play with words and spend time with students and colleagues who enjoy language. Dance has been a major part of my life since childhood and I still attempt to employ grace and movement in my every-day.

Please ignore this paragraph.

I'd like to apologize to both Perry and Kelli for the mistake, and thank them again for taking the time to be interviewed for the newsletter.

If you'd like to subscribe to the newsletter, click here. It updates, at most, once a month.

The Trenches

Joseph lived in the trenches. The others came and went, firing weapons at the enemy location before marching elsewhere. Joseph always stayed.

The soldiers ignored him, except to push him aside when he got in their way. On occasion, an officer noticed him and ordered that he be taken away, but then a bomb would explode and Joseph was left to his own devices.

Joseph had a reasonably comfortable spot. He mostly just lay in the soft mud. It no longer mattered if he was face down in the pool of water at their feet. Breathing was no longer necessary.

We Accommodate Everybody

"Humanoid preparation team to the front counter."

Shaun, Michelle, and Joan crossed the lobby in seconds. Standing by the "We Accommodate Everybody" sign were a family of black eyed hairless grey humanoids.

"What can we do for you?"

"We can use beds at a pinch, but we always sleep better in a web" said the largest humanoid.

Galactic Hub Hotels are proud of their service. Joan holstered a plastisilk gun and led the family away. Nobody spins more comfortable webs than Joan.

"Humanoid preparation team to the front counter."

Uh-oh, aquatisuits. This is going to be more of a challenge.

From Guest Contributor Ross Clement

Infinite Summer

God had bleached everything. The shattering sky. Erin’s face. Even our baby’s perfect hands were white.

Tiny, frozen fingers assail the windshield while Erin shivers in the passenger seat. I ease the gas pedal cautiously, hesitantly–-coaxing a reluctant lover.

Tires slip and I wonder if it would be so bad, sliding to our end in ice and pavement. Why not, with the cold body of our almost baby left at the hospital?

Erin clutches her abdomen, lingering reflex, and whispers the name I refuse to remember. The name we picked when the world was warmer and life infinite summer.

From Guest Contributor Sierra Donahue

B.H.

I swirl around the last dregs of my falsely sweetened coffee. Waiting for something that will cause my pupils to expand, or contract. Something to make me short of breath, to pant. I wait for something to make my palms sweat and tap my feet nervously.

Looking at the last of my coffee, I sigh, exhausted. No longer strong and dark, it has turned milky with too much creamer. I wonder how long something can stay like that.

This is what my life has been reduced to? I cannot remember anything B.H. (before him).

He always made the coffee.

From Guest Contributor Tess Pfeifle