The Right Thing

When I stepped into the cold of the night, the wind against my face, there wasn’t a soul in sight. I walked the streets in desperate need of an answer. Those files I found would ruin the company and probably cost me my job but inevitably save lives. I wish I hadn’t come across those documents. At least I wouldn’t have insomnia.

After what seemed like hours, I had an idea. I’d go in tomorrow as if nothing happened. No one would suspect a hard working every-day man like me would do what I decided.

And that’s the right thing.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Daisy

I feel warmth from looking at the hydrated light glistening on the soft petals of the daisy. I also feel cold from observing the water droplets slowly slipping off of those same petals as they struggle to keep their grip. The daisy, once a seed, now a flower. She contains just as much life as she did hidden in the soil. I know the daisy will not be here forever. I know I will not be here forever. I know you will not be here forever. One day the daisy will be pushed; dead. As every other daisy before it.

From Guest Contributor Winter Daisy

Winter is an author that has a deep desire to make a difference. To read more from them go to https://linktr.ee/winterdaisy.

Early Bird Special

Doubled-masked and leaning into the pharmacy’s window, you answer questions that will later identify you immediately. It’s 11:59 a.m. and the Know-It-All Tech, with a bar code label on her wrist and seascape nails, is already sick of the routine: Fill out these papers, sign here and here; take papers around back & sit with arm exposed; face turned to the left, as a cool alcohol swab cleans an invisible bull’s eye. The outgoing pharmacist chats about snow & cold and you barely feel him stick you with the needle. Done, he says, pressing a circle band-aid over your future.

From Guest Contributor M.J.Iuppa

M.J.Iuppa lives on a small farm near the shores of lake Ontario. Her 100 word stories have appeared in 100 Word Story, Eunoia Review, Otoliths, Jellyfish Review, A Story in a 100 Words, The Dribble Drabble Review, The Drabble Review, Milk Candy Review, Lost Balloon, and others. . Check out her blog: mjiuppa.blogspot.com for her musings on writing, sustainability & life’s stew.

Lightfall

It took millennia for the rays to alight atop the sky. As It saw them, It rejoiced. Its cold corpse rose from Its slumbering position. The light would not be long now. The radiance burnt the gray skies, who smoldered with violent violet rage, fading to baby blue embers. The trees near It unfurled their stalks, reaching lightwards towards the first sunbeams. Kaleidoscopic rays raked closer. It grinned giddily. So long to shadow and cold. The light finally, finally, finally touched the tops of the trees, which elongated upwards. And as It touched the sky’s embers It smiled, burning happily.

From Guest Contributor Kaleb Bjorkman

Kaleb is an aspiring poet, artist, and electrical engineer from Colorado Springs.

Cemetery Sentiment

in this silent graveyard,no one mentioned death.the hair on my arms stood at attention,like soldiers in the cold war.temperature below freezing,any moisture turned into iceand fell onto his eyelashes.just before midnight,we grabbed a bouquet ofplasticyellowroses.he quivered from the cold,but his smile never faded.vows spilling from his lips,like a waterfall made of his soul.his nose was cold against mine,after the final words of our connection.pulling away he looked at me,a shimmer in his eyes,knowing,that forever,he will always be mine.

From Guest Contributor Neyalla Ryu

New Year's Resolutions

New Year’s Eve, a time to reflect on the past year, and Charles did just that. In the upcoming year he would eat healthy, and spend more time with his granddaughter. Julia with her dimpled cheeks would be a young woman soon and he didn’t want to miss another minute.

Times Square was filled with people, dressed in big coats and hats braving the cold. The countdown began, and the glittering ball started to drop.

“Happy New Year, Elise,” he said.

He drank his champagne and placed it next to his wife Elise’s photo, her glass full and bubbling untouched.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Regret

I freeze at the crossing, not because of the cold, but at how a stranger walks.

Even the musculature of her legs reminds me of Sandy. For a moment her profile ensnares my heart. Then she looks in my direction, questioning without expecting an answer. She doesn’t break stride.

We’d made a pact to run away together: escape doldrums and parental tyranny...to find adventure in The City. We’d agreed to rendezvous here. I’d been waiting more than an hour.

I set off alone, annoyed when her name escaped my lips; and admonished myself that I never really knew her.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

Failure To Thaw

The funeral didn’t make her cry.

She had been given a frosty life, locked out of warmth. Once she found the sun, she never looked back. And yet, here she was.

The chalky dough of a face, ice white and just as cold, with a slash of red lips and the hum of memories in the air bounced off of her like the wrong side of a magnet. She gave the packet of tissues to her sister before brushing past.

Leaning close, she touched the stripe of rouge. Some rubbed off on her finger.

Curious, she thought, the measures taken. From Guest Contributor Emily Fox

Emily has an MA in English and Creative Writing from SNHU. She currently lives in North Carolina. You can find her at emfoxwrites.com, or follow her on Twitter @emfoxwrites.

Winter

I peered suspiciously beyond the chipped lacquer of the oaken balcony. I had seen this before. The wind was coming.

Somehow, this place had now become my opus. I mean to say of course that it had supplanted my imagination. The verdurous landscape below appeared at times surreal; dioramic. And yet, at almost the same moment, conscious; alive to the rhythmic pulsations of the earth. Living in the trees was an idyllic stillness; in the air, an inscrutable entropy.

Soon, without warning, the wind would be be upon us, and a pervasive cold would grip the house for many days.

From Guest Contributor L.S. Worthy

The Pesto of Love

Jasper Bains had not meant to invent a love potion. He had an excess of macadamia nuts and fresh tarragon; it seemed a good idea to make pesto from them.

Every customer of Jasper's Specialty Foods who bought some returned hand in hand with a new customer. Business was booming.

Jasper spread pesto on crackers and gave them to a frowning brown-haired woman and a young man who'd shot shy glances at her. Eyes met eyes and the winter cold was forgotten.

Jasper's heart skipped a beat when Genevieve walked in, but he hid the pesto. That would be cheating.

From Guest Contributor Ross Clement