Father

Father threw his coat on the chair and announced, “I'm tired of trying to see the good in people.”

“Tough day, Father?”

“You have no idea. All day long, problems, problems, problems. I can’t fix chronic poor choices in partners or unfulfilled dreams of success because of laziness.”

“Did anything good happen today?”

“Well, the steps were repainted. It was a decent job, considering it was done by a recovering alcoholic.”

“See, that’s a start.”

“But there was a parade of people coming to confess all sorts of stupid things to me.

“Well, maybe being a pastor isn’t for you.”

From Guest Contributor NT Franklin

My Sidekick

She was the best stress buster I had. My best friend. My confessor, she bore all my messes. Talking to her was necessity not habit. She was my anchor in my bad marriage days. Ironically, my daughter shares a birthday with her.

She is the picture perfect woman to me. She got married to the best guy in the world. I'm so happy for her. I had never thought distance and time would keep us apart in these technologically advanced days. She is in EST and I am IST. What a mess these 9.5 hours have created in my life.

From Guest Contributor Dr. Scribbler

Never Forget

It was a warm sunny day on September 11, 2001. Lori remembered the towers imploding, the sadness and knot in her chest from the horror. She never forgot the sight of human bodies dropping to the ground as she watched from the window with watery eyes and shaking hands. She paced the floor as her other colleagues stayed silently glued to the window. The only words were those on the phone for panicked loved ones.

Sixteen years later, on a warm sunny day, the names of the victims are televised and read by grieving family members.

Lori will never forget.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Acknowledgement

He shouldn't have to insist on special treatment. It's no longer special at that point. Besides, he wanted to maintain the same humble demeanor as before. Success and fame shouldn't change who he is, right?

But here he was, waiting with everyone else. Not one person had acknowledged his big breakthrough.

"More eggs, Brian?"

"Yes, please."

He appreciated the gesture, but you'd think a guest appearance on CSI would bump him to the head of the table, not stuck in between his siblings while breakfast was served. Besides, the eggs were cold. Some Christmas this was turning out to be.

The Unexpected Drive Home

The rain pelted against the windshield and traffic was at a standstill. Impatient drivers honked their horns to no avail and I tuned them out with my radio. Finally, the traffic began to move, but the rain didn’t let up. Every car was crawling. My stomach gurgled from hunger and my throat was parched. It had been two hours.

As I reached the drawbridge crossing there was an ambulance. Two cars collided head-on and a body laid on the ground covered with a black tarpaulin.

I shut off the radio and drove the rest of the ride home in silence.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Lure Of The Surf

Chatter heightened in a resort restaurant.

“She’s a striking beauty,” someone blurted. “Out surfing every day,”another added. “Can’t miss.”

Ken placed lunch servings before the patrons, imagining running intosomeone like that.

When work ended, he headed for the beach. Between relationships,feeling low, he sought peace by the sea. Surfers dotted distantsparkling waters. Their faces couldn’t be distinguished.

Next day, Ken served the same group of diners who had talked sopassionately about the mystery woman.

“She’s walking ashore holding a surfboard,” someone shouted.

Everyone, including Ken, turned to look out the window.

It was his sister.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.

Territorial

Allison refused to budge. By all rights, she was entitled to stay in this booth as long as she liked. She'd bought a latte after all, never mind that had been well over three hours ago.

She looked around the coffee shop, hoping to find an empty table somewhere else she could direct the interlopers. They were in the midst of the lunch rush, however, when all the students got out of classes. There really were no other options.

"I suppose we can share." Allison grudgingly scooted over and made room for the happy couple.

Oh, how she hated them.

Criminal

He had been marked as a criminal as a young boy. The branding itself was not especially painful, not physically at least. The stigma that he now bears has, however, made life nearly unbearable these past 20 years.

There is a relativity that applies to all things in all times. A crime, for example, may in fact be a heroic act under the right circumstances and in the right culture. To ignore the possibility of nuance means that everything becomes black and white in a world full of color.

Yet there is nothing relative about the brand on his face.

Better Off

Crash.

Pain.

Nothing.

Light.

Nicole wakes up in what feels like a cocoon. Everything is soft, including her focus.

A familiar voice cascades in. Nicole turns. A stranger is smiling at her. She recognizes nothing about him but the voice coming from his mouth.

"The doctors say you'll be okay. You just need rest."

Nicole tries moving, but no response. She fears paralysis, until she notices the restraints. She looks back at the stranger.

"You really gave us a fright."

She remembers. Not everything, not who this person is or the accident, but she remembers enough.

Better she were dead.

Duty And Thoughts Of Alisen

A sweep of peach graced the western sky...maybe. Sleep deprived, he couldn’t really be sure. Vision might be compromised, eyes too bloodshot to discern the ambiguous purity of grey dragging the downpour along the horizon.

And the windows were filthy.

Sunday eyed him from the corner, placid gaze sharpening as her head rose from his Nike, quasi-spaghetti dangling from open maw.

He identified with the drool-laden laces.

“Curious passion,” he said, observing the dog...but thinking of Alisen.

Sunday growled, mouthing the trainer, front paws tensed and backside hoisted by her wagging tail. Play and a walk.

Duty called.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid