Man Out There

There was a knock on the cabin door.

Deborah looked at her phone. There was no service out here but it could still tell the time. 2:30 a.m.

The knock repeated, louder, more urgent. Perhaps someone was hurt. Or lost in the woods. But in the middle of the night, it wasn't her problem. She prayed for whoever was outside to just go away.

Deborah came to the cabin for peace and quiet. Now she was crawling on the floor as quietly as possible, peaking out the window.

Her worst fears were realized. There was a man out there.

Hunting

I left the cabin against my wife’s wishes and ventured into the woods hunting for anything that might feed my family. Within minutes the wind picked up and I found myself struggling in knee-deep drifts and knew an arduous journey was ahead. Would there be any rabbits or deer to hunt? Am I the only one who has a starving wife and children?

I continued my quest until my body tired and I had to rest. I collapsed to the ground, snow pelting my face, and my toes frozen.

I closed my eyes and knew my hunting days were over.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Giant Ship

I listened to the sound of the waves smack against the giant ship, closed my eyes and pictured my wife’s face. Her radiant smile and long blond hair made my heart pulsate. Soon we’d be together once we docked in New York, and she’d be waiting for me with open arms and our son. I relished the thought.

I dropped the picture when the ship shuddered. I opened the door and panicked people filled the hallway.

“What happened?” I asked out loud.

“Titanic has hit an iceberg,” answered a fidgety man.

I went back into my cabin.

Titanic wouldn’t sink.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Stuck In A Cabin With You

HISTORICAL FICTION ENTRY:

Pete stared out the window, surprised at his boredom. 'Cabin fever’ was becoming a thing. Alan and Dick each had areas staked out, and Pete felt like any incursion on his part might lead to an argument.

All he could see outside were stars. The moon would come into view in a few minutes, but that brought its own set of painful thoughts.

The quarantine order had come several days ago. John signed off saying, "You're safer there than back home."

Apollo 12 was stuck in lunar orbit with a mysterious pandemic spreading on Earth. Pete did not feel safe.

From Guest Contributor Emma Sparks

Reunion

Imagining their reunion had helped her do unspeakable things since the Collapse. The cold night crystallized her tears. Others might mistake the flicker on the mountainside for a twinkling star, but she knew it’s a candle burning in the window--their sign. Don’t worry baby, she thought, Momma’s coming.

By daybreak, she had reached their cabin. Its warmth draped itself around her like a blanket. Wiping her shoes on the mat (force of habit) a small thing flew out of a cupboard and pinned itself to her legs. “Mummy! I missed you!” David emerged; his face already crumpled with emotion.

From Guest Contributor Carla Halpin

Reflection

I sit by the fireplace in the cabin I rent, sipping steaming tea,staring at the painting above the mantel.

The woman’s face has a distinct redness to her cheeks and lips. Her deepbrown eyes match the color of her hair which is tied in a bun with onesmall red rose tucked behind her left ear, her head tilting ever soslightly. Her pearl necklace drapes neatly around her neck and shestands tall, her gown showing off her shapely hips.

There’s no date on the painting or artist signature.

The young woman in the painting is me.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Remains

Stephanie allowed her eyes to adjust as silhouettes gradually manifested in the murkiness of the cabin. Even this deep, the difference between dim ocean floor and the total blackness within the shipwreck was stark.

After a few minutes, she saw the safe's boxy outline in one corner. Her fingers delicately worked the dial, hoping corrosion had not ruined the mechanism.

Stephanie spied two spotlights through the empty window. The competition. She worked faster without a torch, one of the reasons her employer always came to her first.

The safe opened. Inside: nothing but remains.

The question: Would her pursuers believe?

Trepidation

Landslide. Highway closed. Closest motel, five miles back.

The adjoining restaurant was packed. I sat at a table with a coupleand their three high-spirited children. Rain fogged our window.Someone outdoors fleeted past us.

“Creek flooded road to my cabin,” an elderly gent spoke as we bothexited. “Why are you here?”

I wiped my eyeglasses pretending not to hear. “Can you please walk meto my room.”

He laughed. “Why, you scared?”

“I saw a prowler earlier.”

He obliged.

Next day’s news revealed that a bear had to be tranquilized on thegrounds, taken back into the woods.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Publishedat: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, 101 Words,Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press),ShortbreadStories, SixWordMemoirs, and Espresso Stories.