Old Man

I’ve been coming to this park for months. Today an elderly man I’ve never seen before wearing tan khaki pants that are too long, sits next to me.

“Beautiful morning, I’ve been coming here since I was a boy. I still remember the fruit stand that used to be across the street on the corner. Best oranges I ever tasted.”

Just having lost my job, I’m not in the mood for conversation and leave. Then I realized I forgot my cell phone on the bench.

When I return, the man is gone, and an orange sits next to my phone.From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Maple Tree

There was a maple tree on the corner of Ryan's yard as he was growing up. When he was seven, the city ordered it cut down because the branches were interfering with the electrical lines. Ryan cried a lot and convinced his mom to fight. It took many hours of sitting in on city council meetings and gathering signatures for a petition, but eventually the power company relented. The tree was saved.

Now the trees are the only things left standing in their old neighborhood. Once the plant revolution started, Ryan and his mom were spared, but the houses weren't.

Corn Maze Days

Corn maze stocks walk along, step by step, in endless motion. Lefts turned to rights back to lefts, leave us wondering and wandering alongside the corn maze. Eleven in the morning turns to seven at night, soon the moon will guide our way. Apple cider dances while the fire flickers, old folks singing folk songs. Knit sweaters insulate the warmth of your love, arms wrapped around my waist. Shadows once trailing, we now chase. Mama made a pie, pie's been cooling on the counter, calling our name. One more corner, one more corner turns a long day to sweet dreams.

From Guest Contributor Mekah Baker

Mekah is a student of literature and the applied sciences at Pikes Peak State College.

Living In Paradise

Robert repeats his mantra as he tries to concentrate on nothing but his breathing.

Every moment is a paradise. Every moment is a paradise.

He remembers his trip to Bali, floating in the ocean surf as the sun set over the horizon. That was paradise.

He remembers looking into his eyes and the world disappearing in the totality of their love. That was paradise.

He opens his eyes surreptitiously and glances about the room. The faux-wood floors, the scent of cleaner in the air, the sad plant in the corner.

This is not a paradise. This is not a paradise.

Two Step

Mike heard the siren and stood up from his seat, gathering his belongings. The dance continued.

Everyone was charging to the front, but Mike strolled at his own speed. No need to rush things.

He thought of his favorite band, and wondered whether he'd ever get to see them perform when this was all over.

One of their songs blared in his earbuds. They weren't allowed music players but most of the officers looked the other way about such infractions. Give a dying man whatever he wants.

Gun in hand, Mike rounded the corner into the line of enemy fire.

The Pyramids

The new neighbors were installing an elevator in the three-story home on the corner. As soon as it was finished, they handed out tickets like we were going for a ride. When the doors opened, we stepped out into a blistering afternoon, where men were struggling with giant blocks of stone. Were they busy creating one of the ancient wonders of the world? It looked like we might be witnessing a miracle, but the air was stifling, thousands of years old. Wasn’t it time to go home and relax? Kick off our shoes, call an end to this crazy day?

From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe

After Summer Camp

We hugged our children when they stepped off the bus, but they looked at us with vacant eyes, and when they spoke, the music was missing. They didn’t know who we were, or what they were doing on this street where they’d grown up. We brought out the brownies they loved, but they said no, our precious fifth graders, and stacked their suitcases up like a funeral pyre, as if to set fire to their childhood. The bus driver stood on the corner, a new god, calling them back to their new life, while we were left to wave goodbye.

From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe

Final Instructions

The fight between Lefty Louie and Bonecrusher Rocco was only minutes away. Bonecrusher was an awesome specimen – a huge head, bull neck, and massive chest and biceps.

In Louie's corner, Al, his manager, had a few last words.

“The referee’s going to give you both instructions in the middle of the ring.”

Why a square surface was called a ring Louie didn't understand.

“He's going to tell you to go to a neutral corner when someone's down. Break when he tells you to. Then he'll say let the better man win.”

“What?”

“I know, Louie. Just forget that last part.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

The Waiting Room

My clammy hands make the number I pulled soggy. I roll the paper’s corner between my fingers until it looks like the twisted end of those poppers you throw at the ground. The chairs are ice cold and don’t warm up to me. Who am I waiting for to call my name? The slip is blurry. There’s no number after all. My skin is on fire. The paper disintegrates. Now I’ll never know when I’ll be called. The gift of creation is eating me alive. I really wanted to get that checked out. But I don’t think anyone is coming.

From Guest Contributor Madeline van Batum

Madeline lives in Colorado with her cat and hopes that one day she can go back to her home country of the Netherlands to finally meet the Flying Dutchman.

Round One

It was the end of the first round between Rockcrusher Rocco, the favorite, and Lefty Louie. Rocco wasn't called 'Rockcrusher' for nothing. And not just for publicity's sake. He could really hit.

Louie's manager, Al, and cutman, Mel, were in the corner with Louie…

"Do you think you can go another round, Louie?"

"Huh?"

"A round? Another round?"

"Is that you, Sally?"

"No. It's me, Al."

"What?"

"Remember what I told you? When he jabs twice with the left, he throws his right cross."

"Sally, I can't believe you're here."

"It's me and Mel, Louie."

"I still can't believe it…"

From Guest Contributor David Sydney