Chaos Angel

Bill stood overlooking the Hudson River, contemplating what reason he had for still living. He half expected an angel to appear, a wise guardian able to show him all the people who'd miss him were he no longer here. Instead, he found himself completely alone, a feeling that had grown so oppressive that any outcome would be preferable.

Bill did have a guardian angel. His name was Donald. He was scheduled to be at the bridge at exactly the moment he was most needed. Unfortunately, Donald did not believe in keeping a calendar. He preferred to wing it (pun intended).

The Shove Seen Round The World

My family sings and we eat ice cream cake, the crunchy bits dancing across my tongue. We shovel sugary forkfuls into our mouths, laughing and sharing kindred stories. We are warm. We are comfortable. We are sheltered.

I am enveloped in birthday cheer the exact moment when parts of our beloved country erupt in chaos.

Whistles for justice pierce the air before biting clouds of pepper spray surround the faces of protestors fighting for their neighbors. There is a shove, and all the world sees a cell phone raised in a clenched fist; a lifeless body sprawled in the street.

From Guest Contributor Brigitta Scheib

Horrors Of War

Innocent civilians taken hostage. Families plead for their loved ones' safe return, helpless and fearing the worst outcome. All they can do is weep and wait.

Pictures of children shown on the news, unaware of the outside world, scared, frightened, and huddled together unable to sleep, wanting their parents to save them and not knowing why they’re separated.

Countries gather to create foundations to help those in need. How long will it last?

Shootings and chaos surround streets, and gunfire echoes in the air. People bellow and search for safety, unable to find it.

These are the horrors of war.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Problem

Ender the pirate was paying attention. Aliens were among those who called themselves humans. August 2023, alien souls from Perseus arrived via asteroids. Eager to explore our world, they realized the limitations of their ethereal existence. Filled with curiosity, they inhabited human bodies to navigate our reality. At first, chaos ensued as they adjusted to their newfound life. However, through empathy and understanding, they integrated seamlessly. Together, humans and extraterrestrial souls embarked on a remarkable journey, fostering unity, and rewriting the definition of what it means to be alive. The problem? Everyone on Orion were hybrids already with mRNA vaccines.

From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle

Chaos

George fires his rifle, and the bullet hits the enemy in the gut. The man lands with a thud, and blood drips from his mouth. George seeks cover in a nearby ditch, men screaming and dying all around. The sun is fading, and the firing hasn’t stopped. He can’t stay there any longer. One of his comrades jumps in.

“Charles, we need to get out soon or we’ll be sitting ducks.”

They wait until the firing slows and run.

George gets to the other side, but Charles gets fatally shot in the chaos.

George continues running and never looks back.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

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.

Crossing The Threshold

The greatroom was full to bursting, ghosts everywhere: playing charades, talking, resting, dancing, darting between clusters of spirits engaged in various means of whiling away time.

A newly-born ghost appeared at the doorway and paused at the chaos. The chaos paused in return, all eyes upon the newcomer.

“Come in, Dearie, and welcome,” Eve, the oldest of them all, beckoned.

The new arrival apprehensively crossed the threshold. The others returned to their various activities.

Eve helped the new ghost settle in. Did she have any questions?

Just one, the young ghost said, voice wavering: “When do they notice you’re gone?”

From Guest Contributor Melissa Ridley Elmes

Melissa is a Virginia native currently living in Missouri in an apartment that delightfully approximates a hobbit-hole. Her poetry and fiction have appeared in Reunion; The Dallas Review Online, Eye to the Telescope, Star*Line, Gyroscope, In Parentheses, and other print and web venues, and her first book of poetry, Arthurian Things: A Collection of Poems, was published by Dark Myth Publications in 2020. Follow her on Twitter and Instagram @MRidleyElmes

The World Is Nothing But Chaos And Entropy

Brian stared at the devastation. Where once stood his immaculately kept garage, packed with 45-years worth of careful philatelic curation, was a skeletal frame and mound of black cinders. His eye would be diverted by what momentarily struck him as an envelope floating on the breeze, but turned out was nothing but ash.

His wife attempted consoling him. Imagine the insurance payout! But his devotion had never been about money. Only now, staring at the remains of his life's work, did he truly understand his need for the comfort of a well-aligned stamp in a world of chaos and entropy.

The Beats

Gregory Corso was sitting in the window of Allen Ginsberg's East Village apartment – two, three hours, just sitting in silence. He had vowed to himself not to be a willing participant to any further chaos. Just to be every day, it took everything. You could be having a really nice time at the beach or the park one minute and in the next minute there could be cops with meaty red faces gassing and clubbing you. Once at a reading some lady asked him, “What’s an id?” and he waited a bit before answering, “Eighteenth-century sea captains carousing in Surinam.”

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is the author of The Titanic Sails at Dawn (Alien Buddha Press, 2019).

Never Forgotten

The eerie sound of rumbling and cries coming from the street as the day turns clouded with dust and debris.

Sirens blaring, chaos ensuing. A day of sadness and a city coming together in the face of tragedy.

The memory of falling angels and blackness in lower Manhattan as firefighters run to help the innocent.

Seventeen years later, the depth of emotion still consumes our souls.

Names read every year on the day, by a weeping family member.

Sleepless nights and sorrow for family still waiting to hear if their loved one’s remains are found, never forgetting September 11th, 2001.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher