All Below Was Sky

All below was sky. No, that isn’t right. You are upside down. The seatbelt keeps you suspended a foot above ground. Blood swells and pounds in your temples, or was it the whiskey? Frank was on the street.

Ejected. He had been thrown fifty feet.

Dead and dusky.

His seersucker shirt plunged a deep v on a chest of ringlets. Oxford buttons pin a lapel dyed crimson. You count the spots on a ladybug as it skitters across. Stripes and six spots. A gnarled oak casts shade on the misshapen corners of a green license plate.

A wailing siren approaches.From Guest Contributor Kyle J. Ames

Kyle is a student of English at Pikes Peak Community College

The Sewing Box

Mrs. Livingston's sewing box was home to all manner of assortments. Strings and thimbles and yarns filled the various trays until they overflowed from one level and started cluttering the next.

But Mrs. Livingston's sewing box also lodged certain invasive residents who had nothing to do with sewing. A fairy family lived among the buttons and spools, hiding not only from Mrs. Livingston, but also from their enemies of the realm.

Fairy hunters know that sewing boxes are the first place to look for renegades. Unfortunately for Mrs. Livingston, she died during the scuffle, killed by her own knitting needles.