The Black And White World Of Chess

Naomi preferred the chessboard to reality. When playing, every piece and every rule is precise. Away from the game, nothing seems certain. Why am I feeling these emotions, and what do they mean? Did he really say that? Could this really be happening?

The only deviations in chess come from unexpected moves, whether it's double exclamation point brilliance or a tragic blunder that would have seemed inconceivable from a player of such caliber, they still exist within the framework of the board.

So how can it hurt more to be betrayed by someone you love than to lose a match?

A Funeral Of Crows

The crows gather from miles around, blanketing the sky in a murderous patchwork of feathers and claws. The cacophony sends shivers in every direction, and the people wonder what calamity is portended. Something primeval is at work.

Lena watches from the balcony, wondering why the grownups are so frightened. Can't they see the crows are simply giving voice to their sadness, just like Daddy does when he's had too much to drink? Perhaps grown-ups run out of pity when they reach a certain age. They've learned their emotions are only worth sharing when you get something you want in return.

Final Goodbyes

As I held Josh’s hand, looked at his face, eyes shut, tubes in his nose and throat, I teared trying to hold back my emotions from a full-blown cry. It had been several months, and the doctors tried everything, but he remained unresponsive. Every day I prayed for a miracle, but deep within, I knew there wasn’t one. So, I continued to speak and visit him often.

Today he’s being taken off the machines, and now it’s time for final goodbyes.

I watched his chest move slowly up and down until his final breath.

A cold shiver.

He was gone.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Open Up Your Heart

The door slammed shut so forcefully, Winston felt the reverberations from his bedroom.

It was better this way. Sarah would never be happy. She wanted someone to match her emotions at both ends. He just wasn't built that way. "Don't get too high or too low." That was his motto.

There were probably another 20 minutes before daylight would start creaking through the blinds, but there was no point trying to fall back asleep. So he went to the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of cereal.

Winston wished the fight had started after breakfast. He missed Sarah's pancakes already.

Parts

There are so many parts. Kept in so many places. Compartments. Boxes. Bags. Bottles of fragile glass. Crumpled notes. Silent emotions. Screaming thoughts. Swept under the rug, in full view for all to see. No one cares to look. Feet itch. Throats burn and choke. There is pain. A fullness in the head. Legs are terrified. Hips want to cry. I don’t know why. Go, in search of questions. Lost with all your parts. Unable to fix. Unable to stop. Unable to flee. Unable to look you in the eye. Scared of what you already know. Parts of a whole.

From Guest Contributor Courtney King

Jobs For Humans

The android smiled at Brad. "Did you enjoy your work day last week?"

"Watching androids build walls? Are there any jobs where I actually dosomething?"

The android paused. "A day as a headmaster at a school?"

Later, another android greeted Brad at the school gates. "Mr Earnshaw,come this way."

"What will I be doing?"

"You'll be giving the human day teachers a motivational talk on howimportant their role is."

"Do they teach?"

"The children are busy with android led classes."

Brad was stood in front of a room of bored humans, and left to do his job.

From Guest Contributor Ross Clement

The Recumbent Bicycle

When Inspector Grimes arrived at the scene, a flood of details cried out for his attention, as they so often did: the layer of grime between the flagstones, the single shoelace tied around a stack of books, the taste of almonds hovering in the air. Any of them might be important, but it was the recumbent bicycle the inspector focused on now. Someone had knocked it to the ground.

Being a good detective requires blotting out emotions and staying focused on the meaningful details. But right now all Grimes could think about was that his best friend had been murdered.