His Plant

The only thing left of him was the plant. They’d taken everything else. Emptied every cupboard. Every last scrap. It’s their right, of course. They’re family. Me, just a roommate. As far as they knew, anyway. A roommate. Maybe a friend. Nothing more, surely. No reason to think otherwise.

There in the kitchen windowsill, his plant. Thin, green and white. Spidery. They hadn’t known it was his. I didn’t tell them. I’ll keep it alive now that he can’t. I’m no good at that, but I’ll learn. I have to.

Keep it alive. Keep him alive, by my side.

Forever.

From Guest Contributor Louise Snape

Louise is a speculative fiction writer of Dutch and French origin and a graduate of Oxford Brookes University’s MA in Creative Writing. She dabbles in poetry, short fiction, and is currently working on writing her first YA fantasy novel.

Reunion

Imagining their reunion had helped her do unspeakable things since the Collapse. The cold night crystallized her tears. Others might mistake the flicker on the mountainside for a twinkling star, but she knew it’s a candle burning in the window--their sign. Don’t worry baby, she thought, Momma’s coming.

By daybreak, she had reached their cabin. Its warmth draped itself around her like a blanket. Wiping her shoes on the mat (force of habit) a small thing flew out of a cupboard and pinned itself to her legs. “Mummy! I missed you!” David emerged; his face already crumpled with emotion.

From Guest Contributor Carla Halpin

House Guest

A puppy was shivering in freezing wind and Bholu decided to bring it home and provide shelter for a night. He hid it from his granny, but as soon as Bholu dozed off to sleep the puppy came out and started licking the old granny's feet. The poor lady screamed and woke up from her sleep. The puppy got scared and hid under a cupboard in the room. Granny caught hold of a torch and flashed it under the cupboard. She saw two sparkling eyes gazing at her. She pulled it out and wondered how it got into the house. 

From Guest Contributor Preeti Singh

Preeti is an Indian French interpreter, international author, and scriptwriter. In her free time, she loves to play sundry characters for television series. 
You can check out her latest book at https://www.infiniterealmsbookstore.com/product-page/remember-me-not-by-preeti-singh

And follow her at Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/preeti

Twitter: https://mobile.twitter.com/PreetiWrites

Dead Mouse Walking

“What’s that plastic bag poking out of your pocket, Ollie?”

“Nothing to worry about, Jim. Only a dead mouse.”

“I thought there was a pong.”

“Found him in the airing cupboard. Toasting himself, the fecker.”

“Ollie, why are you carrying him around?”

“I’m going to give him a decent burial.”

“You know what I’d have done?”

“What?”

“I’d have served him to Sourpuss. As a delicacy.”

“Isn’t Sourpuss rotund enough?”

“Are you going to part with that mouse, or aren’t you?”

“It’ll cost you, Jim.”

“Pint?”

“G’wan. Done. Here, take him.”

“Barman, two Guinness.”

Plop.

“What the-? My pint!”

“Cheers!”

From Guest Contributor Geraldine McCarthy

Betty's Style

Amanda glared accusingly from the living room doorway. Her father and brother didn't even notice. They were engrossed in television. Their shared triumphant roar startled her.

"What's wrong, love?" Mam rocked herself out of the old couch and approached. She fondled Amanda's curls.

"Betty's hair is a mess. I brushed it yesterday."

Mam smiled. "Let's see what we can do."

***

The doll's coiffure was perfect when Mam put her back in the toy cupboard and tucked Amanda in.

Betty waited until the lights were out before indignantly reaching up and ruffling her hair back to the way she liked it.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid