Happy Birthday

It was pouring rain, but I just couldn’t leave on his birthday, Christmas Day. I placed the pine cone wreath against the headstone, the red bells I added for the holiday chiming.

Drenched, I kneeled and said a silent prayer. I teared at the memory of his last birthday, ecstatic after he tore open the wrapping and saw it was golf clubs; his blue eyes lit the room.

I stood for a few more minutes reflecting.

As I touched the tombstone, I felt a shiver up my arm and one of the bells landed by my foot.

“Happy Birthday, Georgie.”

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Warm Memory

A friend says he thinks of Andy Warhol and his pop art when he sees Campbell’s soup cans. But when I see Campbell’s soup cans, I think of my mother.

When younger, I would come home from school on frigid days to the smell of Campbell’s tomato soup, anxious to sit and have the warmth sooth my chilled body.

Now an old man, I still sip Campbell’s soup and remember my mother’s radiance lighting up the room and her deep blue eyes sparkling under the overhead light in our old kitchen. She’s been gone years, but I feel her presence.

From Guest Contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher

Staking A Claim

It started with his touch and before that the way he looked at me; clear blue eyes that knew how to take me in, how to see through my quiet, my fear. We explored city streets that summer, always attached, love-linked. A goodnight kiss turned couch tumble—hungry hands searching, lips and teeth crashing, his weight pinning me down. And then that surprise on the back of my neck: sweat, tears so sweet. Surrender, yes, maybe even love; but later, and better, trust and understanding, an intimacy that allowed regrets to be shared, my darkness to escape, a homestead staked.

From Guest Contributor Holiday Goldfarb

Holiday is currently enrolled in the MFA Program in Writing at Lindenwood University, Saint Louis, MO. If all goes as planned, she will graduate in December 2016.

Sid

Tears streamed from Charlotte's blue eyes. Her protective doberman 'Sid' had died. Even her job as a vet did not help. The cancer had spread. Two weeks after Sid's sad demise Charlotte tied her brown locks into a bun and returned to saving other pets' lives. She accepted only token payments to cover her lonely expenses.

One moonlit evening whilst withdrawing takeaway cash a scuffle ensued. Police arrested a crook from the off license nearby. As he was dragged away the thief shouted back,

'Lady, you're lucky you had a big dog watching you, I was gonna rob you first!'

From Guest Contributor Kerry Valkyrie Baldock Kelly