The Agony Of De Feet

We took a cruise which included Roatan, an island off the Honduras coast. We had a fine time just wandering around the island but decided it would be a good idea to go kayaking. We were right, it was a beautiful day in the Caribbean and the bright sun was fine. We thought we had dressed for the occasion, but even with suntan lotion on most parts of our exposed bodies we forgot our feet. Both of us got extremely sunburned feet. Walking was painful for days after, but we still remember our cruise and time spent on Roatan fondly.

From Guest Contributor Doug Hawley

Living In Paradise

Robert repeats his mantra as he tries to concentrate on nothing but his breathing.

Every moment is a paradise. Every moment is a paradise.

He remembers his trip to Bali, floating in the ocean surf as the sun set over the horizon. That was paradise.

He remembers looking into his eyes and the world disappearing in the totality of their love. That was paradise.

He opens his eyes surreptitiously and glances about the room. The faux-wood floors, the scent of cleaner in the air, the sad plant in the corner.

This is not a paradise. This is not a paradise.

Deep Slumber

Every part of my body ached; and my hair was pasted to the pillow from sweat. My lips were dry, yearning for water, but I couldn’t drink with the tube down my throat. I’m in the hospital, but what happened?

There’s movement around me, but it’s just a blurred mess. My head feels as if it was struck with a hammer, the pain shooting down to my neck.

I heard voices.

“She needs surgery to remove the swelling. Sarah suffered severe head trauma in the accident.”

Is that a doctor?

Slowly I’m being moved and sedated into a deep slumber.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Mel Finishes the Week

His week at the coin-operated laundromat finally over, Mel wished for nothing more, after a meal of mac & cheese, than a night of uninterrupted sleep.

So, now in REM sleep, he was able to dream, to put his Uncle's laundromat behind him.

To recover.

But what the...

It was his Uncle Leo, bursting into Mel's dream of sleeping on laundry. There’s something pleasant about lying on towels and underwear at your work.

“I don't pay you to sleep. Take this mop, Mel.”

All that night he spent mopping.

Mopping and mopping linoleum until the morning, when he awoke exhausted.

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Best Friends Forever

Michael sits on the dock with his feet dangling in the water. Frank lounges next to him, his nose alert for danger or snacks.

Perhaps they will go for a walk along the lake, or follow the dried creek bed up to the moss tree. Or Michael might grab a fishing pole from the shed and spend the afternoon at the shady shore. Frank would probably rather chase squirrels and rabbits in the grassy meadow.

It's the kind of day that you want to freeze in time and make it last forever.

The kind of day made for best friends.

Time

Hope is the eternal companion of time. Whatever amount we have, we always believe there's more.

Shannon reflects on the time they've wasted. Angry for no good reason. Lost in mindless distraction. Drunk to the point of blacking out. That's time literally given away for nothing.

Now that the end is upon them, she's choking on the regrets. The bad choices, the meaninglessness. The moments of the past that were perfect and yet so brief and unappreciated.

But those moments were perfect because they were unreflected upon.

All you can do is focus on the hour that is upon you.

You Are The Method

I met the man with the train face at a strawberry picking. Where you buy the basket, scatter into the field, pick as many as you like or as will fit. He moved in a straight line, boring ever farther ahead, picking with one hand, then the other, then engineering the basket forward along the ground. When I was beside him, I could feel his breath like steam; his eyes seemed to let out more light than they took in. Full basket, he passed it to his wife. Her face was a station. She handed him a new, empty basket.

From Guest Contributor Ken Poyner

Double Decker

My name's Dan, but they call me Double Decker because one time I got in a fight and knocked out two guys with one punch. That was the last scuffle I was involved in because ever since, people mostly try to avoid making me angry. There was that one time a drunk guy pulled a knife on me, but the bouncers pulled him away before anything happened.

I'll tell you a secret. That double knockout thing never really happened. I just started telling the story one night and people believe it because I'm 6'-6''. Pretty funny, huh?

What's your name?

Reunion

I was only seventeen when I gave my baby girl away to a loving family. My parents were by my side as my heart ached and I cried to sleep every night.

Happily married with two grown sons, my thoughts still frequented that sweet red-faced baby I left behind.

I felt my heart palpitate and my hands tremble, but my boys told me not to worry.

Molly had doubts but agreed to come.

The doorbell rings.

I straightened my clothes and took a deep breath.

On the other side of the door was my daughter waiting to meet her mother.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Ascent

The door heaves open. Light floods me while darkness retreats inside me. The guards shove me outside my cell. On the stairs, my heart beats like a war drum. One step. Two. Many more. While my chains gently clink. At the summit, I look down and the people cheer. I see their mouths moving but I can’t hear a sound. All I hear is my panicked breath. As they take off my chains, the darkness escapes. I feel so light that I lose the ground under my feet. I smile, in the twenty-five meters that separate me from the abyss.

From Guest Contributor Davide Risso

Davide grew up in Italy, but his itchy feet led him to live in Ireland, Germany, the United States, and travel around the globe. Scientist by training, writer by passion, rock climber by vocation, his fiction has appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, RumbleFish Press, Literary Yard, and Cranked Anvil among others.