Dispossessed

The spike in adrenaline that accompanied every previous eviction, bankruptcy, and foreclosure did not offer the same exhilaration on this occasion. Walter didn't like the feeling of being out of control.

"You can't do this to me. I'm the one who decides."

"You have ten minutes to gather your belongings and vacate the premises. I recommend contacting a lawyer too."

Walter stormed to his desk, fuming at the injustice. He saw the eyes following him and wondered which of his colleagues was behind this betrayal. They were all guilty of the same illegal bookkeeping errors.

He was simply the scapegoat.

Guardian Angel

Hank takes his job seriously. He clocks in every day on time, and stays exactly how long is required of him. So what if he never volunteers for overtime? There are plenty of colleagues eager to cover for him.

Hank never drinks to excess while on duty. Sure he may get a little tipsy on occasion, but not to the detriment of his charges, who remain his top priority. If anything, drinking in moderation calms his nerves and makes him more effective at angeling.

Yes, he sometimes parties with some friendly devils, but he's trying to convince them to repent.

The Same

The birds flew by

as the wind blew past.

Cars come cruising, crossing coastlines.

They're the same.

Birds fly free with the ocean breeze

and the cars follow along to their graceful flight.

They're the same, together in the light.

One flies,

one drives.

They're the same.

An endless road.

An infinite sky.

They're the same.

It's no race,

they're at the same pace.

The road twists and the car does not slow.

The bird resists the wind and flies high.

They're the same.

The road is black and yellow,

and the sky is blue and white.

They're the same.

From Guest Contributor Daniel Duong

Sensitivity Training

Not another sensitivity seminar! The professor already kept his door open when he was with a female student. What more did they want? And who else had been sent this message from the dean? Nobody had been cc’d, so the professor forwarded the message to the entire department, the colleagues scratching their heads when they got it. Why had the professor sent them the dean’s message about sensitivity training? Each colleague checked the skeletons in his closet before flinging their doors open to the punishment of pizza stacked up against the professor’s office. One good prank deserves another, they agreed. From Guest Contributor Cheryl Snell

Cheryl's recent fiction has appeared in Gone Lawn, Necessary Fiction, Pure Slush, and elsewhere.

Validate Yourself

“Don’t expect a pat on the back, just know you did your best,” Ted’s mentor in Rail Dispatch taught him the most important lesson. He was right. Ted never was acknowledged, but years later he validated himself.

In the dimly lit Rail Control Center, while his colleagues were distracted by a stalled train, Ted studied his flickering console and alarm bells sounded in his head. Another commuter train would crash into it if he didn’t act quickly to shunt it to a siding.

Ted didn’t wait to be feted as a hero. He just did the deed and thanked himself.

From Guest Contributor Marc Littman

Mystery Hour

A 9-year-old girl trick-or-treating in a black-and-white Halloween costume got mistaken somehow for a skunk. The lead detective on the case is borderline Asperger’s. Covering an entire wall of her grubby office is one of those conspiracy theory maps, with all the pins connected by strings. “I’ll break anything in order to figure out how it works,” she’s famous around headquarters for saying. Her brisk confidence irks male colleagues. “Go away,” one shouts, “and take your shitty forest!” She can’t hear him. She’s out in a far corner of the city collecting evidence of the refulgence of pearls of blood.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is the author most recently of Spooky Action at a Distance from Analog Submission Press. He co-edits the journals Unbroken and UnLost.

Never Forget

It was a warm sunny day on September 11, 2001. Lori remembered the towers imploding, the sadness and knot in her chest from the horror. She never forgot the sight of human bodies dropping to the ground as she watched from the window with watery eyes and shaking hands. She paced the floor as her other colleagues stayed silently glued to the window. The only words were those on the phone for panicked loved ones.

Sixteen years later, on a warm sunny day, the names of the victims are televised and read by grieving family members.

Lori will never forget.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher