Housekeeper

The rain pelts my umbrella, so I make haste to avoid getting drenched before my housekeeper interview. The last home I cleaned I left because there had been too much friction between the husband and wife. I didn’t want to be in the middle, so I quit. When I came across a post online of a wealthy couple looking for a house cleaner, I applied. It’s in an upscale neighborhood and I have a good feeling.

I ring the doorbell and a man answers. In the distance I hear a loud crash, and his face turns wan.

I walk away.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Reflections In The Rain

Amid labyrinthine alleys and neon-lit streets, a small cafe beckons. Inside, a lone figure cradles a lukewarm coffee, eyes weary yet searching. Across, a young couple laughs—a fleeting yet beautiful symphony of joy.

The cafe hums: baristas call orders, chatter blends into a comforting buzz. Inside him, a yearning tide—echoes of a once-ablaze love, now scattered like dead autumn leaves. Rain taps a melancholy rhythm, each drop a plea.

The coffee, bitter; the rain, demanding. He catches someone staring back—unspoken stories, quiet regrets. He reaches to comfort the other, feeling only glass. No one searches but himself.

From Guest Contributor Chinmayi Goyal

Departure

Stella huddled on the dock with her family, clasping hands with cherished loved ones. She tried relinquishing her ticket, proclaiming she'd rather stay behind, but they pushed her towards the boarding platform without entertaining such foolishness.

Through it all, she avoided looking in Mark's direction. His tear-stained eyes would wreck her. She was determined to wait until the last possible moment.

When there were no more moments, her family backed away, allowing the couple privacy among the sea of people. Nobody heard their whispers.

And then Stella boarded the starship, one of the lucky few afforded a chance of survival.

New Neighbors

Nobody’d said okay to the infamous moving in, but who should drive up but Bonnie and Clyde in their 1934 Ford, parking it in their 21st Century driveway? What were we to do with the notorious couple but invite them to our pot luck dinner, held alfresco every Wednesday evening? We were all enjoying delicious tiramisu when Charlene showed up late with her high-strung Doxie, yapping and nipping at Bonnie, who whipped out her .38 Special and shot, missing the dog by a mile, or maybe 238,00 of them. As just then, across the sky sailed half a bloody moon.

From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe

Camaraderie

Quibble believes the Paterson boy is getting a little close to his daughter. He has seen how tethered they sit when allowed to linger together on the porch. Three school dances in a row they have been each other’s primary partner. Quibble’s wife has taken to complimenting for no reason, with fanfare, the boy’s taste in clothing. The conspiracy grows. Quibble is sure, if he had a mind to intercede, he could find the couple parked in the graveyard, innocently – so far – bobbing for lumber. He likes the boy well enough. He has to find a way to warn him.

From Guest Contributor Ken Poyner

When I Realised The Earth Wasn’t Flat, I Felt Pretty Damn Foolish

The swarm arrived at the beginning of the week, their language that of war, and humanity the patient listeners.

Continents of flame pulsed now, flickering orange across a world recently gone dark.

Those who could, stayed and fought. Crumbling capitals and plasma-charred skeletons formed the battlefields of Earth by midweek.

Those who couldn’t (and those like myself who wouldn’t), hopped on the soonest evac shuttles to Mars.

I nudge a couple away from the window to catch the last view of a burning Earth from orbit.

The sight haunts me.

After all this time, I had guessed the shape wrong.

From Guest Contributor S.R Malone

Broke

Bills. They stacked up like a child's art project on the kitchentable, each stamped red with the word "overdue." The house wascrumbling down, the wallpaper peeling off every panel. The wallstrembled as the couple screamed at each other. Blame flew likehousehold objects; lamps, chairs, and plates.

They stormed off in a huff to the same bedroom, facing away from eachother, their faces too hot and hearts beating too hard to sleep.

So they stayed awake, until the sunlight streaked in through thebroken blinds and the couple was ready to start the routine overagain.

From Guest Contributor Artie Kuyper

There's Something The Matter With The Sea

We all got off the coach and headed for the beach. The couple who'd sat across from us stripped to reveal their swimsuits, like a superhero duo. I told Dad on the sand, but he seemed distracted, staring into the horizon.

'I think there's something the matter with the sea,' he said.

Mum told him to cut it out. He nodded, patted me on the shoulder and turned back towards her.

The water was warm, like a bath. That was our second clue. 'Don't worry,' the news anchor had said at breakfast. 'Hurricane Katrina isn't expected to cause much damage.'

From Guest Contributor Robert Keal

Mr. Death

The security guard at the door had asked you to open your backpack, please. All the contents had crumbled as soon as they’d been exposed to light. Now a bride and groom were standing on a raised platform with blindfolds in place. “I feel like we’re in the apocalypse,” I whispered. “We kinda are,” you answered. And yet most of the attendees maintained the blank expression usually reserved for looking at glowing screens. An officiant in a hooded garment joined the couple up on stage. We should’ve left then, before the dancers sprang out from somewhere and scattered your ashes.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is on the pavement, thinking about the government.

Dangerous

A young couple ambled into a strip mall parking lot. Carla wrapped herself around Thomas.

“I’m making a point,” she said.

“Cool.”

“I want to show someone I’m in love.” He smiled. “An old man.”

He frowned, and Carla nodded toward a lone figure staring from across the street. She kissed Thomas hard, quick. “He found me on the dating site. We had coffee. I was, like, your picture was 30 years old! Think your Cary Grant charm would win me over?”

“Cary …?”

“George Clooney?”

Thomas pouted.

“But it’s you I love. Now go put a scare into him.”

From Guest Contributor Chris Callard