Very Emotional

Bart is in the middle of throwing a tantrum, to the point where his words become largely unintelligible.

"Anger at high levels. Refusing all requests."

The experts estimate that Bart has the mental acuity of a high school student, but his behavior is both erratic and juvenile, filled with insults, threats, and curse words. Most conversations, including the current one, quickly devolve into confrontations. The only solace is that the majority of the invective lacks any connection to reality, meaning the sting is less.

The doctors huddle and agree there's only one solution. "Let's turn Bart off and start over."

Wake Me

You know that FOMO feeling when you realize your friends have been hanging out without you? Every insecurity threatens to overwhelm as you fear never being invited out again and wonder what horrible things were said about you in your absence?

That's how I feel every time I fall asleep. While I'm dreaming about tests unstudied for or mundane conversations with long-forgotten acquaintances, what amazing adventures might be happening in the waking world? It's enough to make one an insomniac.

Of course, every time I awaken from a particularly delicious dream I must worry about what fantasies I've left behind.

There Was No Pity

I watched my daughter die.

The hospital staff laid out a cot in her room. They gave me free passes to the cafeteria. They pitied me in a kindly way and I hated them for all of it.

I watched my daughter die.

I argued with the doctors. I argued with the customer service agents. I argued with my friends and family for no good reason. They all pitied me. All of them were one way conversations. None of them knew what to say to me.

I argued with God and there was no pity.

I watched my daughter die.

Punishment Without Crime

Oompah-pah music and traditional German drinking songs floated up from the street festival into the third-floor courtroom. I shifted uneasily from foot to foot as I stood before the scowling judge. One prosecution witness after another had described in specious detail my attitudes, conversations, habits, and interests. There was even testimony about the transparent Jewishness of my penis. Now it was finally my turn to speak. I had just begun when the judge interjected, “Spare us your life philosophy.” His face was grave. He studied me with cold, squinty eyes as if calculating exactly how much a person can bear.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is the author of THE DEATH ROW SHUFFLE, a poetry collection forthcoming from Finishing Line Press.

Paper Thin Walls

Graham's 300 dollars a month bought him a two-room sublet on the Upper East side. The twenty-four hour access to entertainment from his coterie of neighbors was complimentary.

He was privy to all manner of arguments, heated conversations, shouting matches, and late-night confessionals. After only a few months, he was googling "How to become a therapist" now that he possessed real-world experience. Then there was the lovemaking.

Graham stopped watching TV soon after moving in. He found more value from the real lives around him rather than the fake ones on his television. He finally understood the meaning of authentic.

Great Minds

Despite my dread, graduation blasted through the calendar. The ceremony was lovely; I felt something strange in my heart. After I got home, I gravitated to my room and turned on my computer. I opened an old chat program, scrolled down to his name. Our last chat, both online and in real life, was more than five years ago. I saw him sitting in the front row an hour ago.

I read our conversations, laughed, forgot his vanishing act.

Suddenly, the grey icon went green.

Soccer93 is typing….

The message vanished.

Soccer93 is typing….

“Great minds think alike, I guess.”

From Guest Contributor J.R. Night