Symbiotes

When she saved me from the Caligulan Brain Fever outbreak, I stopped seeing my NUR-5E unit as just a fussy nuisance. Fascinated, I threw myself into learning coding and robotics, and now she’ll never be touched by anyone else.

We look after each other, you see: she keeps me alive, and with my skills I upgrade her, and deal with any viruses or mechanical issues. I’ve outlived all the ‘friends’ who called me mad, and she is decades past her notional service life. We’ll never stop.

“I love you,” I say. “I will always care for you,” she replies. “Forever.”

From Guest Contributor Alastair Millar

Alastair is an archaeologist by training and a translator by trade. His published flash fiction (and social links) can be found here.

Spooky Halloween

Rob dons his skeleton mask and goes out the front door to his car.

The trick or treaters fill the streets with laughter, while parents keep a watchful eye on them. Rob slowly drives through the crowds as the night sky darkens the roads and he struggles to see, not wanting to remove his mask.

Finally, he arrives.

In the back seat, Rob pulls a lifelike toy out from underneath a blanket.

His friend Tim is going to get the best spooky Halloween prank of his life.

Inside Tim has a water bucket hanging over the door waiting for Rob.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Lilith Bird

He was tempted by her cardinal blouson and red pout, by the slippy-strap escaping down her arm, showing she was a little disheveled. She was unadorned, but her fangs flickered gold in the glow of candles and broken mirrors. He imagined the impossible, undressing her in his world, how he would unravel in her beautiful feathers. But he knew her kind, how she could only take and not be taken. She would ravish him in a few ecstatic moments and leave his husk in a heap of satin sheets, while she licked the last drops of blood from her claws. From Guest Contributor Lorette C. Luzajic

Lorette reads, writes, publishes, edits, and teaches small fictions. Her work has appeared in hundreds of journals and a dozen anthologies. She was selected for Best Small Fictions 2023. She has been nominated several times for Best Microfictions, Best of the Net, and the Pushcart Prize, and shortlisted for Bath Flash Fiction and The Lascaux Review flash prizes. Her collections of small fictions are The Rope Artist, The Neon Rosary, Pretty Time Machine and Winter in June. A collection of her work has also been translated into Urdu by Saad Ali. Lorette is the founding editor of The Ekphrastic Review, a journal of literature inspired by art. Lorette is also an award-winning mixed media artist, with collectors in more than 40 countries so far.

Wishful Thinking

As the Strawberry moon sets on the peak the sky shines bright like a diamond ready for its new owner. Spring weather in the Springs is springing but the cool breeze feels good on our cocoa butter infused skin. Your eyes bright like a newborn showing off their first smile and your touch soft yet warm like Vicuña. The record player sings the soft sweet sounds of “The Sweetest Taboo” with our feet's glued to the floor with no care in the world. Nights like this are longed for with breathtaking experiences, never ending memories but nothing like wishful thinking. From Guest Contributor Renee' Battle

Renee' is a student studying broadcasting and legal studies at Pikes Peak State College.

Corpus Delicti

Every day there’s a funeral – actually, several. You peer into the open casket and immediately regret it. I have that kind of face. There has just always been something about me that provokes people to anger and upset. “Hitler should come back and gas you!” they would yell, as if the very idea of me threatened them. An unknown caller once even left a series of gunshots on my voicemail. Now I’m being lifted off the bier and swiftly carried down the aisle and out the door. A desolate rain is falling. I don’t remember a time when it wasn’t.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie's newest book, Frowny Face, a synergistic mix of his prose poetry and handmade collages, is forthcoming from Redhawk Publications.

Time Traveler's Tale

The ending of the closed time curved loop was about to happen? How would one know? Stories, deja vu? A feeling that something new was about to happen? New? In a cycle of recycled? Nothing was new under the sun. All scenarios had been done. And this too was just some sort of redo.

The question the time traveler had? Was any of this real? Meaning? The time traveler had seen more than 50 states of the US. Had seen UK leave the EU. Had watched Hawaii being nuked. All seemed surreal. The question of time. The question traveling time.

From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle

Two Of The Estimated

There are an estimated 380 trillion viruses in the human body. The entire population is known as the virome. Ed and Frank were two of the viruses in Mel Fromberg. As it happened, they talked to one another…

"Let me ask you, Ed. Did you ever want to be something else?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, how about a bacterium?"

"I can't stand those things, Frank."

"Or how about a cell?"

"What?"

"You know. How about a cell in a human being like Mel here?"

"What?"

"Maybe a lung cell? Or nose cell?"

"Mel? His nose? Are you kidding me?"

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Perfect Spring Day

Rob stares out the window at two young girls playing jump rope while their mother and grandmother cheer. The girls are chortling and clapping without a care.

The birds swoop overhead, and leaves blow in the light breeze. It’s the perfect spring day.

It becomes too hot by the window, so Rob backs away.

“Hello son. Let’s go outside. The doctor says the fresh air will do you good.”

Rob nods and wheels his chair toward the door. His dad pushes him the rest of the way.

The girls will be jumping rope, while he looks on from his wheelchair.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Justice Delivered

It left a strange taste in her mouth, just as Robert said her first would. But it was successful and could launch her career. A perfect heart shot at 300 yards. There are those that will want to know who made the shot. She left traceable evidence of her sniper nest, so the exact shot distance would be known.

Maybe it should have bothered her, but it didn’t. What’s one less human trafficker in the world? She’d happily trade his life for one less girl trafficked. At least one mother got the justice she wanted and will sleep well tonight.

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.

Better Charge

He saw the new battery subset the last time he was sent in for routine maintenance. His two cycles out of style power supply barely sputters in comparison. But his owner does not think it worth the cost: that he is a serviceable hebot just as he is. He could be much better with pricklier power. No matter what arguments he makes, she will not upgrade his electricity fetch. Next time she configures him for intimate entertainment duty, he might simulate a power drain that interrupts performance. It is a trick he has seen this owner use with her husband.

From Guest Contributor Ken Poyner

Ken’s eleventh book, “Winter’s Last Apple,” is just out. Eight of his previous ten books are still in print. He lives in Virginia with his wife of 45+ years, assorted rescue cats and various betta fish.