Safari

I couldn’t believe I was in Africa on a safari and that my dream came to fruition.

My guide points to the giraffes in the field; their long necks and legs were ominous to other smaller animals.

The elephants led their young and stayed nearby. It was astonishing seeing them up close, the males’ prominent ivory tusks digging the soil as their young squeaked.

The heat in Africa was unbearable, so I sipped my bottled water to stay hydrated in awe of my surroundings.

The tour ended and I was back at my hotel.

Tomorrow, my flight home to reality.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Permanent Manuscript

Sir Robert, during his quest for the Holy Grail, was struck by a spectacular vision. The images were so overwhelmingly realistic he felt compelled to document everything he had seen as a testament for all future generations. Stopping in the nearest cave, he began carving, with both words and pictographs, the amazing sights he had witnessed. Only by engraving the words deep into the stone, permanently recording his fantastic revelation, would he be certain that not a single letter of his screed could ever be altered. Thus it would forever remain.

Sir Robert liked to make his editor's job difficult.

For the prompts Manuscript and Letter.

The Spelling Bee

It was the Turnersville Third Grade Spelling Bee. Fran Blancowitz squared off against little Mel Fromberg. The auditorium was packed with students, staff, parents, and relatives.

“Mel, spell the word ‘Dog,’ please.”

He managed it slowly.

“Now, Fran, spell the word ‘Letter,’ if possible.”

No problem. 

Next Mel correctly spelled ‘Cat’, after Mr. Atkins, the principal and questioner, used it in a sentence – ‘The cat chased the dog.’

“Fine…Now, Fran, spell ‘Manuscript.’”

She did. But, from the audience, her parents and relatives objected – he was tougher on Susie. 

Mr. Atkins turned to Mel.

“Okay…Spell the name ‘Blancowitz,’ Mel."

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

For the prompts Manuscript and Letter.

Our First Writing Prompt

To celebrate the new website, and the arrival of summer, I thought we could start with a community writing prompt. And we're going to take our cue from the incomparable Fran Lebowitz, seen below in a visit to the Morgan Library and Museum.

The prompt is to write a story that revolves around a letter or a manuscript. Bonus points if you manage both items (but at one hundred words, maybe one is enough). I'm curious to see what you come up with. 

You will find the submission guidelines here. For the month of June I'll be bumping stories that follow the prompt to the front of the line. 

First Star Of The Night

According to the old superstitions, it was considered bad luck to see the first star of the night. Just one of many bits of unwelcome advice Sean's grandmother had plagued him with during adolescence.

He thought about her words whenever he was outside at twilight. It wasn't that he was willfully ignoring her, but he refused to let some old-fashioned view of how the world works to stop him from enjoying the sunset.

What Sean didn't realize, but his grandmother knew all too well, was the evening star stole the soul of the first person to see it every night.

Every Ending

Needle prick. Anesthesia kicks in. You’re floating, light as a feather, then you fall back into your body. But not in this dream. You won’t wake up again.

Harsh hospital lights. There’s no capacity to sustain you. To build homes in this scorched world. You couldn’t afford them, not even before the natural disasters. Instead, one-square-meter pods in space—compact and cheap—for your brain. For all human brains. Other body parts are redundant.

We need to shrink. Reduce our footprint. The resources have been exhausted.

Before your eyes, the scalpel blurs. Remember that every ending is a new beginning.

From Guest Contributor Bettina Laszlo

Normal Life

The hairdresser with a comb in between her teeth, mumbled, “Hey, Maxie, be with you in a few minutes.”

The hum of the blow dryer and the loud chatter filled the room with an abundance of life. Women flipped through magazines while waiting, and the owner turned on the television to the game show channel.

I went over to the coffee machine and made myself a cup. Steam rose and I sniffed the heat while sipping the hot liquid that warmed my insides.

I hadn’t been out in months with my treatments, and it felt great being around normalcy again.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Song Of The Absurd

Simon, the court jester, pranced across the oval flagstones, drawing sneers from the many important personages in attendance. They found his antics both annoying and embarrassing, and wondered why the king tolerated him.

Just last week, Lord Bulworth had insinuated, in the most polite tone, that perhaps his majesty had been ill-advised when he ordered the Naval attack against the Kingdom of Flavina. He was beheaded before sunset. Yet Simon was allowed to hurl all manner of insults against the King's most trusted advisors.

When the royal order for the next purge came, Simon was the only one to survive.

Necessities

My sister thrives on sunshine. She says it lifts her spirits and gives her hope.

I try to avoid the sun, or any bright light.

The other day a flickering light spun my head. I screamed uncontrollably. It took me a while to calm down after the lightbulb was replaced.

I’ve learned to find contentment in being alone. At sunset I go out to kick around a soccer ball in the backyard. It frees me of life’s burdens. It lifts my spirits, gives me hope.

Doubt my sister will ever understand. Few people do, what it’s like to have autism.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Graves

The buildings stood empty, monoliths etched by lichen and rust, each one a decaying monument to a forsaken past.

Dr. Niemann and his team surveyed the remains from the safety of their hazmat suits. Acquiring the grant money for their investigation of Old New York had taken more than a year. No one wanted to know what had happened. Perhaps out of fear it might happen again.

The surveyors delayed entering as long as possible. But the initial measurements and data tracking were complete and the time had come to learn why ten million people had all died at once.