Dispossessed

The spike in adrenaline that accompanied every previous eviction, bankruptcy, and foreclosure did not offer the same exhilaration on this occasion. Walter didn't like the feeling of being out of control.

"You can't do this to me. I'm the one who decides."

"You have ten minutes to gather your belongings and vacate the premises. I recommend contacting a lawyer too."

Walter stormed to his desk, fuming at the injustice. He saw the eyes following him and wondered which of his colleagues was behind this betrayal. They were all guilty of the same illegal bookkeeping errors.

He was simply the scapegoat.

Lost Children

One morning, the adults of Sycamore woke up to find that all of the children had disappeared. There were no signs of abduction or notes left behind and, even more curious, it appeared that many of them had packed bags of clothes and favorite belongings before they departed.

A meeting was convened. An argument ensued. The parents blamed the police. The police blamed the parents. Rivals and political adversaries threatened violence. The fault lines of the town were laid bare.

Eventually, a letter arrived. It read:

"To our parents,

Get your shit together or we're never coming back.

-Your children"

Two Step

Mike heard the siren and stood up from his seat, gathering his belongings. The dance continued.

Everyone was charging to the front, but Mike strolled at his own speed. No need to rush things.

He thought of his favorite band, and wondered whether he'd ever get to see them perform when this was all over.

One of their songs blared in his earbuds. They weren't allowed music players but most of the officers looked the other way about such infractions. Give a dying man whatever he wants.

Gun in hand, Mike rounded the corner into the line of enemy fire.

ARP

I joined the Air Raid Precautions as a warden, ready to serve. I never imagined the danger.

The blackout began, and my eyes adjusted to the darkness. My partner George and I walked the streets and spoke frivolous chit chat when a bomb struck nearby.

We followed the screams into the chaos. Homes and businesses laid in a heap and bystanders wept as they picked up whatever was left of their belongings.

We searched the rubble and found no survivors.

I returned home, fell into bed, and dreamt of my childhood, a happy, peaceful time when there was no war.From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Lisa has been writing since 2010 and has had many micro-flash fiction stories published. In 2018 her book Shorts for the Short Story Enthusiasts, was published and The Importance of Being Short, in 2019. Her most recent book In A Flash, was published in the spring of 2022.

Musician

Annika Dagmar, skilled with a violin, had dreamed of playing on stage with other musicians entrancing the audience. That would’ve been possible had there been no war.

Priceless paintings and other expensive belongings were sold to have food on the table, except Annika’s violin and case. Her father didn’t have the heart to sell them.

The war had ruined Annika’s family and many other Jewish Germans throughout the country.

“It’s not safe to live here. We must leave everything and go tomorrow before things get much worse,” said Mr. Dagmar.

The violin would never be touched by Annika’s fingers again.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

A Termination At Jaguar Tree Conditioning

“You ordered the wrong humidifiers, Eckersley. We’re letting you go.”

Eckersley blinked disbelievingly. Nineteen years in data entry and supply procurement.

As security was escorting him to the exit with his belongings, Eckersley abruptly broke free and fled to the (HEC) Harsh Elements Chamber.

Their company was based out of a biodome in Lehigh Valley, Pennsylvania where they simulated extreme jungle, desert, and arctic conditions to test the constitution of military grade radar equipment and software.

Sealing the doors behind him, his elusive promotion finally at hand, he sprinted confidently into the dunes and vanished—smiling—into a quicksand pit.From Guest Contributor Thomas Fitzgerald McCarthy