Dangerous Mission

As he lay in his bunk, even the gentle swells of the sea could not calm his anxiety. He had worked so hard to get here. He had learned map reading, sailed along the coast of Africa, and Ireland. It had taken years to secure funding for this voyage. He would not allow himself to fail now.

The last few days had been difficult. Rations were running low and the crew were restless. It had been seventy days since leaving Seville. Had he somehow miscalculated?

Suddenly Columbus heard shouting and running above deck. His heart skipped a beat: “Land Ahoy!”

From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius

Nature

NATURE SUBMISSION:

I watch the red cardinal swoop from tree to tree and chirp in unison with the other birds while flapping its wings. The air is crisp and the sun abundant. The breeze gives a slight chill, so I wrap a scarf around my neck and continue planting.

The sun begins to fade, and the birds disappear into the sky. I wipe my forehead and remove the gardening gloves.

As I sit with my feet up sipping a cold glass of water, I say a silent prayer that the pandemic ends, and we are free as the birds flying this earth.

From Guest Contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher

Waiting

It was an old apartment. Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked at the window. He could see the blue sky and white clouds floating in it. He could see the birds flying high in the sky. There was silence in the room. His two deep blue eyes were filled with innocence and sadness. He was so young. So young to be this hurt. He sat there alone. He had never felt so lonely before. He turned his gaze to the door. It was still closed. His eyes moistened and a tear rolled down his face.

From Guest Contributor Sergio Nicolas

Progress

NATURE SUBMISSION:

Kyrel sucks the last remaining liquid from his glucose package and drops the empty packet on the floor. His mother always complains about the lack of variety, but GelCorp has come out with three new flavors in the last month, all thoroughly tested on young consumers to ensure their likability.

His mother's always going on about the way things used to be. Kyrel is more modern in his outlook. The companies are simply responding to consumer demand, not forcing anything on anyone. Who wants to eat so-called food when you can get your nutrition custom-engineered to your exact genetic profiles?

From Guest Contributor Jeff Heston

Except In Pictures

NATURE SUBMISSION:

His mother always said you solved more problems with words than with fists. But his was not a peaceful nature, and after years of unanswered abuses, he was unwilling to sit by and do nothing.

The bomb exploded on the night of May 1st, 1997. One person was killed, another injured. Both security guards.

His lawyer would argue that the deaths were tragic accidents, that he'd thought the building would be empty. The truth was he hadn't cared.

Now he's in jail, no chance for parole. Nature is still being destroyed, and he hasn't seen a tree in many years.

From Guest Contributor Samantha Dryden

The Book

I’m already sitting in the grass, cross-legged, when you meet me after class. “I’m sorry,” I say as you sit. “I forgot your book.”

“Bring it Thursday.” You smile. “We’re almost done. I can’t wait.”

The rest of campus trudges past. I’ve had your favorite book for months—and I’m not forgetting it so much as I’m scared to give up this piece of you, the only one I have. “Won’t you miss this, once we’re done?” I ask. “It’s our last finals week.”

“Maybe someday,” you say, and look away.

In the evening sun your white t-shirt turns golden.

From Guest Contributor Natalie Schriefer

Natalie received her MFA from Southern Connecticut State University. She works as a freelance writer and editor. Home base: www.natalieschriefer.com

Confined By The Sea

NATURE SUBMISSION:

I watched as the minute breaking waves climbed the gentle slope of the beach, trying to get as far as possible. As the surf receded, complicated patterns formed in the tawny sand. The pendular movement repeated itself, together with the characteristic sound of the advancing and retreating water. But the smell of the shore at low tide, the taste of the salty spray, the feel of the breeze and the warmth of the early sun were missing. I tossed my mobile phone away and sighed - no video will ever replace the soothing experience of a simple walk by the sea.

From Guest Contributor Miguel Prazeres

The Natural In Nature

NATURE SUBMISSION:

“It’s all natural,” Kathy tells Gordon, her teenaged son. “We don’t use pesticides.”

She tears lettuce into bite-size pieces. Radishes lie on the chopping board next in line for the salad.

“But chemicals can fall from rain,” replies Gordon. He fills a glass with filtered water.

Bruno, seen through a window, is crouching between rows of spinach and lettuce in the garden.

Gordon cringes. “So much for natural. Think of all the junk that dog picks up along the way in his daily romps.”

“That’s nature,” says Kathy. “Can’t help what one is meant to do.”

“Certified organic?”

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She resides in Edmonton, Canada with her husband, stuffed animals and many friends.

Ghost Milk

Before going back to the backyard she checked on her husband and her two-month-old kid who were fast asleep. The bed was undone, the dishes were huddled up in the sink unwashed, the rugs were clumsily rolled up. She knew that the child would wake up in an hour exactly. Those midnight crying fits. Last Sunday the infant was inconsolably crying, craving for milk, while she was in the backyard. She wanted to feed him, but couldn’t. Her breasts were heavy with ghost milk. The newspaper on the table read, “Delhi woman electrocuted by wet electric pole in the backyard.”

From Guest Contributor Anindita Sarkar

Unconditional Love

“That damn dog! How did she get out this time?” I asked.

He replied, “It’s my fault. I didn’t secure the back gate properly. Why does she run away like this when we take such good care of her?”

“We can’t take it personally. It is just doggy instinct to hunt. I am just sorry you need to chase her when she does this. Try looking down by the pond.”

Just as he grabbed a leash, the culprit appeared: tail wagging, dirty nose, and a dead gopher in her mouth.“There you are! Come here. Who is our best girl?”

From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius