Another Word For Dystopia

They kicked in the door. Your wife screamed. A few of them were wearing white lab coats as if they were doctors. The world was behaving in ways you wouldn’t have believed possible a short while ago. With a “doctor” on each side, and people in neighboring apartments covertly watching, you were hustled down the stairs and across the street and into an ambulance. To this day, no one will talk about what might have become of you. Everything is either too hot or too cold; nothing is soft. Prepubescent girls have dreams eight feet high and made of steel.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie's latest full-length poetry collection, Gun Metal Sky, is due in early 2021 from Thirty West

Stakeout

The house whose elderly owner didn’t believe in staging finally sold, for way below market value. The old man called Jane twice to back out, overcome by nostalgia. When it sold he moved in with his daughter. She lived nearby.

The excited buyers said it was perfect. A week after move-in they found him seated in a lawn chair, under the oak tree, sipping coffee.

The third time it happened the couple enlisted Jane. She talked him out of serial trespassing. The guy was ninety, a widower.

The buyers threatened to call the police if there was a fourth time.

From Guest Contributor Todd Mercer

Todd writes Fiction and Poetry in Grand Rapids, Michigan. His collection Ingenue was published in 2020 by Celery City Press. Recent work appears in Praxis, The Lake, Literary Yard, and Star 82 Review.

Rejuvenation Maestro

He’d become accustomed to his trifocals and dentures; took his half-dozen morning pills religiously; prayed for just one more upright day, another day to deal with his rapidly advancing age.

Even though he still had his youthful smile and the remnants of his ponytail, most of his hair had gone and what little remained had long since thinned and greyed, then whitened. He usually shunned the morning mirror.

His grandson’s youngest daughter (almost half-way through her troubled, rebellious teens) said, “Don’t worry, Pop-Pop; I can fix you up real good,” and before he knew it they had matching blue hair.

From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette

Ron’s many published works, including his debut chapbook, Fallen Away, can be found HERE.

Forever And Ever

“Love from my heart to yours, always,” Christopher’s mother cooed, cradling his young body.

During adolescence their relationship strengthened. Whenever he lost direction, she made time for him.

Into adulthood, the pattern continued. He didn’t hesitate in seeking her wisdom.

As Christopher strolled on the beach near the home they once shared, something at a distance caught his eye. A polished heart-shaped pebble glistened under the streaming sunshine.

He looked to the deep blueness above, thanking his mother for the gift. Feeling her warmth, after she had left life on earth.

Hearts continued to surface the rest of his life.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She resides in Edmonton, Canada.

The Great Beyond

“I don’t know how I feel about myself anymore?” I asked. The long quiet hallways of the in-patient unit were brightly lit and sterile.

“The mental health journey is a hard process,” the counselor mentioned. I picked up my heavy luggage and walked to the door. Nathaniel, an elderly man with a cane methodically lumbered the length of the hall to catch me.

“I wanted to tell you something,” he said. “I think you are an amazing person, and I hope to see you in the great beyond.”

I exhaled deeply and walked through the doorway looking at the sun.

From Guest Contributor Steve Colori

See You Soons

Autumn was the only time we could be together, but that doesn’t mean it was the only time we were together. Catching quick glimpses, stealing kisses behind closed doors and see you soons were all we knew. But I was okay with that, because it was all I knew. All I knew were rainy October days, curled up for a few hours in his arms. He whispered half promises of forever onto my forehead, but we knew that it wasn’t the truth. It was just a better version of our reality; the one where see you soons never became goodbyes.

From Guest Contributor Kelsey Swancott

Kelsey is a senior majoring in English with a minor in Visual Arts and Spanish while also being involved in the campus literary magazine Angles. She plans on furthering her education by getting her masters degree in English as well. Her work has been published in Entropy Squared, The Dribble Drabble Review’s Spring 2021 issue and Otoliths in February 2021.

Christmas Surprises

Kristy lights the Christmas tree, the glass ornaments glistening in the room. The freshly lit candle gives a warm aroma and the fireplace crackles. They tried for two years to conceive and today she received the wonderful news from the doctor.

Dinner is in the oven, and Kristy is wearing her best red sleeveless dress for the occasion. She sits near the fireplace and listens to the flickering flames, the sound soothing her nervous excitement.

She hears the key in the door and runs to the kitchen.

Cuddled in her husband’s arms is a tiny sleeping puppy.

Another Christmas surprise.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Like The Wind

The steppe beneath me speeds by as I become one with the wind. The monk on my back screams with joy. My hooves kick cotton clouds, and fresh air caresses my muzzle. I gallop toward a light in the distance. My tail flows freely. A small dot appears in the middle of the great plain and gradually becomes larger. A colorful, three-storied pagoda comes into view.

“See that, Rlung-rta? That’s our new home,” the monk says, his voice bouncing with excitement. He grabs my mane as we descend. “We’re reclaiming our faith,” he says with a smile, patting my neck.

From Guest Contributor Toshiya Kamei

Toshiya Kamei holds an MFA in Literary Translation from the University of Arkansas. His translations have appeared in venues such as Clarkesworld, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, and Strange Horizons.

Under The Rainbow

For an instant, just before noticing the new bank of threatening clouds conspiring on the darkened horizon, it seemed like everyone knew how to think, knew what to think; everyone knew how to feel. No one could take their eyes off the rainbow until it faded—as all rainbows always do—and the first few burning drops of the new and far more furious downpour, promising only flood, destruction, and despair appeared.

By the time the storm reached its new-found fury, everyone had given up seeking shelter. No one had any recollection whatsoever of anything even vaguely resembling a rainbow

From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette

Ron. Lavalette’s many published works, including his debut chapbook, Fallen Away, can be found HERE.

Exquisite

The naked model sits, head bent, arms and hands relaxing. Her beauty is undeniable with pure white skin and long toned legs.

The room is quiet. Everyone is concentrating on brushstrokes and creating a perfect painting, while my quick brush movements against the canvas are remarkable. The background is colorful and the lines of her body immaculate.

“Well done, Nicholas,” says the instructor and pats my shoulder.

Eyes are on me and coldness fills the room.

Ignoring the glares, I concentrate on the finishing touches.

Before me is an exquisite, brilliant image.

My love. The lady who stole my heart.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher