Independence Day

It’s “Independence Day,” and I’m excited to see the fireworks show at the beach with my kids. I’ve packed a small picnic of chicken sandwiches and soda, nothing fancy and we’ll sit on the sand watching the sky light up. I want to make this day special for Charlie and Kenny since the divorce has been tough on them.

My youngest, Kenny, takes my hand and gives me a warm smile while Charlie is sitting cross legged waiting.

The sky bursts into red, green, blue and white and the look of joy on my boys’ faces is all I need.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Jason And The Argonauts

Jason, hero of Thessaly, rightful heir to the throne of Iolcus, is a name synonymous with adventure. The quest for the golden fleece, brave Jason, standing tall at the stern of his ship, ready to do battle or challenge the gods if necessary.

Somehow, the most sensational part of Jason's story is the least remembered. Despite having wed Medea and fathering two boys, he courted the princess of Corinth as his bride. Understandably angered, Medea murdered the princess and her two sons. Jason was cursed for breaking his vows and died lonely and unhappy.

I'd say he got off easy.

Reunion

I was only seventeen when I gave my baby girl away to a loving family. My parents were by my side as my heart ached and I cried to sleep every night.

Happily married with two grown sons, my thoughts still frequented that sweet red-faced baby I left behind.

I felt my heart palpitate and my hands tremble, but my boys told me not to worry.

Molly had doubts but agreed to come.

The doorbell rings.

I straightened my clothes and took a deep breath.

On the other side of the door was my daughter waiting to meet her mother.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The March Waters

The stillness of the air weighed heavily on the landscape. The lake, melted during the false summer, was paved over again.

Every kid in the neighborhood was under strict orders to stay off the ice. After the first melt happens, you can't trust its solidity.

The best part about even the mildest of late winter storms is that school shuts down but parents still have to work. By 10AM all the boys, and a few of the girls, had started an epic hockey game.

That night, they all bristled at the injustice of their punishment. After all, they'd been right.

Dare To Taste

“Ewwww...what’s that sickening smell?”

“You wouldn’t want to know,” Jack insisted. “Can you walk faster?”

“Why?”

“You don’t want to be stopped by she who lives there,” pointed Jack.

It could’ve been dried autumn leaves rustling in the wind, but they didn’t want to take a chance by looking back. They scurried past her unkempt lawn, not noticing the silhouette of someone sitting on the front porch.

“You boys hungry? Stew’s almost ready,” a woman’s voice shrieked.

The friends pretended not to hear.

“Rumour has it that she had four husbands,” Jack murmured. “No one has seen even one.”

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Saturday Jog

Jogging through the park, I keep the pace feeling energetic and free. The breeze against my cheeks feels refreshing and the chirping birds fill the air with song.

It’s crowded for a Saturday morning and parents are up early with their children. I pass two women pushing their young children on the swings as the boys soar high and chortle. Other joggers pass and smile contently.

I finish my lap and take a seat on the bench gulping water.

After breakfast and a shower, I will go about my regular weekend visiting my dad in the nursing home memory unit.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

First Meeting

At first glance it appears to be a normal home with a wraparound porch and swing.

The windows are open, and the curtains blow in the warm breeze. Still, I can’t seem to move. Now, I must wonder why I insisted on this meeting. My life is fine. I have a wife and two boys. I don’t need to meet my mother.

She abandoned me, yet I need answers. Even as an adult, I feel as if I’m a child not understanding.

I exit the car and walk to the front door, take a deep breath, and ring the doorbell.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

River Of Memories

Fishel sent his wife and two boys away even though Adella insisted they stay until his fever broke. He wouldn’t hear of it. The “Wolves” could arrive at any moment, and he didn’t want to risk his family.

Fishel’s temperature raged, and he became delirious, his wife a constant vision. Too weak to travel, he went to bed, fell into a deep slumber, and dreamt of his family.

Stomping and yelling awakened him from his pleasant dream.

Four Nazi’s burst through the door, guns pointed at Fishel’s face.

“Get up Jew.”

He obeyed and left a river of memories behind.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Tire Chains

"I'm packing tire chains in the boys' luggage. Just wrap them around the tires," the father of my two nephews advised.

"Sounds easy." I reply. "We'll have fun in the snow!"

Three days later, my nephews and I are standing by the snow-laden roadside with tire chains wrapped around the axle.

We look forlorn and lost. A park ranger passes by, a CHP passes by, and a dozen travelers glance at a young woman and two children in distress.

"Lady? Need some help?" says a tatooed Hell's Angel over the roar of his Harley.

"Please! You are an angel. Thanks."

From Guest Contributor Deborah Shrimplin

Trick Or Treat

Drew wanted to play a trick on his young teenage neighbors. He dressed in an elaborate zombie outfit, blood dripping from his mouth, face and hands painted white. He’d wait for the boys and then make his move. It would be nice payback for toilet papering his car last year.

He peered out the window and there they were.

Drew limped down the block screaming. At first, they laughed and threw leaves at him, but then their eyes widened.

“Hey, it’s just me, Drew,” he said and removed the phony mask.

He turned and behind him stood an identical zombie.

From Guest Contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher