A Family Affair

I couldn’t help but keep my hand on my stomach as the baby kicked inside. “Jace, you can’t tell Jeffrey the baby is yours. It would destroy him, our marriage.”

He took a gulp of water. “He needs to know. If you don’t tell him, I will.”

I grabbed him by the shirt. “Please, Jace, don’t tell your brother.”

He pushed me away; I lost my balance and fell. I hit my head hard and blacked out.

When I awakened, Jeffrey was by my side in the hospital.

I knew from the tears in his eyes the baby was gone.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

On A Bus

78-year-old Frieda tried to maintain balance while holding her bags. No one offered to exchange places, never mind looked up from a cell phone.

"People used to give an old person a seat," said Frieda out loud.

A seat? The young driver had seen nothing like that in his experience. "Sit here for a minute," he offered.

* * * * *

A few blocks after Frieda had driven erratically, a policeman signaled the bus over.

"Enough," he demanded, tired of her playing on the sympathy of young drivers to gratify her bus-driving-desires. Enough with the previous warnings. He never trusted little old ladies anyway.

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

A Non-random Universe

He was a firm believer in the order of things; a conscious universe. He was well versed in Newton’s 3rd law and the law of ‘what goes around comes around.’ He had reduced life to a mathematical formula.

He'd lived his life being painstakingly good, always looking over his shoulder for karmic mis-steps. He would do good and be amply rewarded by a benevolent divinity that was weighing his every action on an eternal balance.

He died with hurt confusion in his eyes, his pain-wrecked body mangled and torn. Had he gotten the formula wrong? Was there even a formula?

From Guest Contributor Minerva Athena

Ireland's Descent

Niamh clambered down the rocks, grasping grass to ensure balance. Her eyes widened with adoration each time she peered over her shoulder espying tides crashing carelessly against bustling coral. To others it was an empty beach clinging to the base of Irish pastures, but to Niamh her struggle over the roughened pebbles opened the gates of Eden.

Her lens captured what she saw; pulsating amber beasts clinging to years of compressed life, silvery fish darting around with grand families and crabs working hard, hunting. Emerald weeds flowed through natural pools capturing the life of the sun. Images she trapped forever.

From Guest Contributor Kerry Kelly

Arm In Arm

Her spindly hand with purple veins protruding forms a tight grasp around the rigid arm. She had a history with this arm, often leaning against it to maintain her balance. It had been a steady companion over the last several years, which was more than she could say about her children. They never approved of their mother’s new company. A cigarette always hung from her overly wrinkled lips when the two were together, and the last thing she needed was another vice. It’s their loss, she shrugged and gave a tug on that trusty metal arm, waiting for three sevens.From Guest Contributor Nicholas Froumis

Nicholas practices optometry in the Bay Area. His writing has appeared in Gravel, Right Hand Pointing, Dime Show Review, Snapdragon: A Journal of Art & Healing, Ground Fresh Thursday, Balloons Lit Journal, and Short Tale 100. He lives in San Jose, CA with his wife, novelist Stacy Froumis, and their daughter.

The Final Voyage

Grandfather boarded the old boat cautiously, wary of his footing. But once he'd left the docks behind, his balance actually improved. The years on shore might have accelerated his aging. We all silently hoped that being on the water might reverse his decline.

We waved optimistically as he pushed away from the pier, careful to act like this was any other departure. As Grandfather awkwardly raised the sails, he lacked the same proficiency of his younger days, though they eventually caught the wind and the boat glided away.

We cried then, knowing we'd never see Grandfather again. The horizon beckoned.

I've Changed My Mind

The chair he was standing on kept wobbling as he tried to maintain his balance it was difficult but so far he was okay. He thought about his wife leaving him taking the kids one rainy day. His job as a salesman kept him on the road but he missed them and was always happy to walk through that front door until she left.. Damned he almost fell there this chair is dangerous. He thought about how they would not know he’d changed his mind if only he could get the damn rope around his neck untied lord forgive me!

From Guest Contributor Derrick Fernie