The Universe's Greatest Hero

As the handsome Captain Cahill hurtles through the cosmos at 186,000 miles per second, his mind wanders back to his finest victory. At the Battle of Vynsenulon VI, when he lured the Gigarachnids into a narrow crevasse and lit the charges above them, burying their army under five tons of granite. His actions that day earned him three medals, one for heroism, one for bravery, and one for valor. Captain Ronald Cahill, the universe's greatest hero.

“I’m leaving you, Ronny.” He barely hears from virtual reality, “Call me if you ever grow the fuck up!” His wife slams the door.

From Guest Contributor Rob Howard

Pests

Two men relaxed on a patio overlooking a lush garden, talking conversationally.

“I’m having a lot of trouble with these pests. They’re just everywhere! In my backyard, my pond, and even the kids’ sandbox,” the larger man said, shaking his head.

His companion sipped from a bottle. “Same with us. They destroy everything, but I still feel bad about killing them. They’re probably just trying to survive.” The smaller man paused before pointing to the ground. “Look, there’s one now.”

The larger man stomped on the creature with a look of disgust before wiping his boot.

“Pesky humans,” he grumbled.

From Guest Contributor Caitlyn Palmer

Wifely Advice

HISTORICAL FICTION ENTRY:

“Gaius, dear, you know you don’t have to go. You do look quite ill and the vote will wait till tomorrow.”

“Yes, but I am Consul and it is my responsibility,” he answered while slipping into his toga.

“But the augurs said that today is inauspicious. Why don’t you stay home?”

“I suppose I could. You are very convincing, my dear.”

A loud knock on the door interrupted their conversation. The door opened and Brutus said, “Hurry up, we’re late for the Senate.”

“I won’t be long, dear. We’ll dine together,” promised Caesar as he walked out into the atrium.

From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius

Abracadabra Universe

I got to tell you, what a computer thinks a man looks like, adversarially evolved hallucinations, is the kind of shit that wears me out. But, apparently, it isn’t the kind of shit that wears most other people out. Their focus is just too taken up with acquiring the essentials – liquor, guns, toilet paper, travel bottles of hand sanitizer – for them to ever notice the heart lying in rags at their feet, or the African monkeys rafting across the Atlantic, or the shrill, jangly sound in the background that can be variously translated as “hello” or “goodbye” or even “peace.”

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is the author most recently of Stick Figure Opera: 99 100-word Prose Poems from Cajun Mutt Press. He co-edits the online journals Unbroken and UnLost.

Courage

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“Can I help you?”

“I...I just need a stamp, please.” he stammers, tapping his envelope on the counter. “Do...do you have anything interesting?”

“Not in singles.” She crinkles her nose, mirroring his disappointment. “A Purple Heart?”

“Perfect.”

His quarter and her first-class stamp exchange hands.

“Front box picks up at five. Still time to get that in today’s mail.”

At the door, he affixes the stamp and writes out the address. He retrieves the long-carried letter that starts ‘Dear...Mom?’ and tucks it inside. He seals it, takes a deeper breath, and passes the letter through the slot.

From Guest Contributor Scott Burnam

Quiet Streets

My footsteps echo on the road pavement in the still, cool morning. It is eerie being out on the quiet streets. I walk before people are awake; the darkness is my ally, helping conceal me. I stop and hide when I hear voices from an approaching patrol. Flattened against the side of a garage, I hold my breath as they pass, innocently chattering. I venture into the street after I can no longer hear them. The punishment for violating the lockdown order is severe. Never would I have believed my country would use military patrols to enforce a lockdown policy.

From Guest Contributor NT Franklin

NT Franklin has been published in Page and Spine, Fiction on the Web, 101 Words, Friday Flash Fiction, CafeLit, Madswirl, Postcard Shorts, 404 Words, Scarlet Leaf Review, Freedom Fiction, Burrst, Entropy, Alsina Publishing, Fifty-word stories, Dime Show Review, among others.

The Witness

HISTORICAL FICTION ENTRY:

Her footman stood in the midst of the crowd on the grounds of the White Tower. He could see the scaffolding, the glistening executioner's sword, and the block where his lady would place her head. Then, Lady Anne climbed onto the scaffolding.

Holding back his tears, the footman listened to the Queen's prayerful last words. He watched as the attendants removed her mantle of ermine and blindfolded her. She knelt down.

With one swift stroke, the French swordsman ended the life of Queen Anne.

The footman turned to his friend and cried, "If only she had given him a son."

From Guest Contributor Deborah Shrimplin

Wars Have Been Started Over Less

When we first encountered the Alavariuum, great expectations immediately spread across Earth. Not only were they a technologically-advanced extraterrestrial race from a thirteen-planet civilization 23 light years away, but they were friendly and offering to help us expand beyond our martian colonies.

Lately, many of the negotiators have admitted their enthusiasm is dampened. While still congenial, most of the committees and protocol meetings have become bogged down in naming conventions. The Alavariuum insist that every significant planet and star be referred to using their complicated symbology, and we'll be damned if we'll let anyone tell us what to call Earth.

Lady Macbeth

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Life had become so boring, so beige boring. Every day it was hound the maids, light the candles, greet the guests. Then along came prophecy! What’s not to believe about a witch, let alone three? Once again, my world oozed with possibility.

What came to pass? Life in red, gushing red. There was blood in the soup, blood in the stew, blood on the hands of my husband. I thought about the plagues in Egypt, the Pharaoh who knew about miracles turned against him. I thought about science. That what flows, surely ebbs? While the old king’s blood ran blue.

From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe

Linda Lowe's poems and stories have appeared in Gone Lawn, Crack the Spine, What Rough Beast, New Verse News, Tiny Molecules and others.

The World Is Nothing But Chaos And Entropy

Brian stared at the devastation. Where once stood his immaculately kept garage, packed with 45-years worth of careful philatelic curation, was a skeletal frame and mound of black cinders. His eye would be diverted by what momentarily struck him as an envelope floating on the breeze, but turned out was nothing but ash.

His wife attempted consoling him. Imagine the insurance payout! But his devotion had never been about money. Only now, staring at the remains of his life's work, did he truly understand his need for the comfort of a well-aligned stamp in a world of chaos and entropy.