Heroes

The fire blew the windows into the street, and pedestrians ran from the area. I entered the house with my fellow firefighters, and the intense heat hit me like a weight. In the distance I could hear someone yelling for help.

“You check downstairs, I’m going upstairs, I hear someone.”

I followed the screams to the bedroom and kicked the door in. Smoke filled the room, but I could see the woman struggling for air. I lifted the tiny woman and took her down the stairs outside to the waiting EMTs.

I went back inside, and we extinguished the fire.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Resistance

The bomb exploded and debris collapsed all around. Covered in dust and choking from dryness, I ran to the alley. A sharp pain in my leg, I realized I had a large gash. I tore the sleeve of my shirt and wrapped my leg to stop the bleeding. With the gestapo in the area and people screaming, I stayed put.

After hours of cramped space and agonizing discomfort, I got up from the ground and limped to the safe house where my team awaited.

The resistance would be pleased with my finding and hopefully the allies would be here soon.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Visiting A Mountain Top

Visiting a mountain top. The experience made me realize that time and rocks seem to stand still for a while. Far off view showing a mountain range haven been beaten smooth with time. Rugged edges of the stones reminded me that here, at least, the stones were sharp and not dull. From lack of water. For water makes everything smooth. Without the rain. The area was semi aired and contained the smell of earth. Making the entire experience surreal for a moment. Making me think of the adventure of the Hobbits and wizards and such. An adventure on a mountaintop.

From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle

Mud Flats

She watched the never-ending rotting seaweed wash up onto the mud flats. No one really came down to this area because of the smell, but the stench would cover the odor of a decomposing body for days. She had to return to the scene of the crime, she couldn’t help it. She had to see for the sake of her daughters.

One finger was sticking out of the muddy flats next to shore. It was harder getting the body to the flats than killing him. Her hurt was over, and he would never lay a hand on another woman again.

From Guest Contributor N.T. 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.

A Piece Of History

The suicide stopped drowning for a minute to pose for the art students sketching on the riverbank. It happened about the time Sartre claimed he was being followed through the streets of Paris by a pair of rare blue lobsters. The bearded lady sat at the window, beautiful in her own way, but struggling to decide whether or not she should start to shave. Even though Hitler was dead, the screams from the gas chambers went on. People in the surrounding area would later say they thought it was just the collection of apple-cheeked Hummel figurines above the fake fireplace. From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is the author of The Death Row Shuffle, forthcoming from Finishing Line Press. He co-edits the online journals Unbroken and UnLost.

Threatened Birds Nesting

You’re eating lunch on a bench in the park, close to a roped-off area where a sign says threatened birds are nesting. It’s the first nice day in a week. You’re enjoying the spring-like weather when a man you’ve never seen before steps out from behind a tree. He points a .38 special at you, shouts, “I regard Henry Ford as an inspiration,” and fires. In just hours, friends have assembled a pop-up shrine at the spot, with flowers, teddy bears, messages of love and respect. Although not me. I’m reading true crime books in order to gather survival tips.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is the author most recently of Stick Figure Opera: 99 100-word Prose Poems from Cajun Mutt Press. He co-edits the online journals Unbroken and UnLost.

The State Of Care

A banner stretching across the building’s exterior says, “What’s Shakin’.” You aren’t sure how that should be read, as a description or a question. There’s only one way to find out. You enter through an unmarked door, walk down a long, dim hallway and up a set of stairs into an area filled with bad smells and loud noise. If you’re going to be stranded somewhere, this may not be the best place. The caregivers take frequent breaks to look out the large windows. It isn’t safe or legal, but they’re Americans and believe they can do whatever they want.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is the author of three recent collections, I'm Not a Robot from Tolsun Books, A Room at the Heartbreak Hotel from Analog Submission Press, and The Titanic Sails at Dawn from Alien Buddha Press.