Not One Of Us

They watched Mark with great interest. Everything about him screamed that he was different, from the way he was dressed (tattered blue jeans and a Winter is Coming t-shirt) to the way he shunned their company.

As he walked briskly past, heads turned seemingly as one. Before long, Mark had a large retinue, each individual dressed in a dark blue suit, following after him. He hurried on without directly acknowledging their attention.

"He's not one of us."

Mark stopped. "Why won't you leave me alone?"

"We just want what's best for you, Mark. Join us and never be alone again."

War

I watched as my buddy exploded into fragments from a grenade. I saw the fear on his face knowing at that moment, he would die. It was chaotic and when I ran for cover, I thought he was behind me, but he stayed to help an injured soldier to safety. Now, both are gone.

I’m in the trench shaken, wishing I were anywhere else but here.

I heard the tanks roaring, and men yelled, guns ready in hand.

My ears rang; head pounded with all sound, until everything became muffled, and my right hand shook uncontrollably.

Then came the explosion.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Starlust

Professor Dutton had a theory that the problem with the universe was the stars. They were too greedy, and lusted after everything, until they imploded and became black holes. If we could distribute all that energy a bit more judiciously, so that it didn't bunch up so egregiously that the stars began consuming everything around them, then we wouldn't have to worry about the heat death of the universe. According to his calculations, it was also the fault of the stars that the universe was forever expanding.

"And thus, I present my plan to destroy every star in the galaxy."

Thrilling Conclusion

The end came as a surprise. Endings always do. It got to the point he was checking his watch, wondering how much longer this could possibly go on, but then it was suddenly the denouement, and he looked about wondering if anyone else had seen this coming, and they all had. He was the only one caught unawares.

Weird how it works out that way.

He choose to think about the last walk they took together, and the first walk, and all the walks in between. They were always the same walk, but he'd give everything for just one more.

In response to Thrilling Conclusion by Robert Wood Lynn

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

Putting Everything Together

Detective Bobby considered all of the pieces before him one at a time, thoughtfully analyzing the unseen solution. A lesser detective might have wanted a map or set of instructions to understand the full picture, but Detective Bobby eschewed relying on such crude crutches. Detective Bobby instead relied purely on his own intellect and so far it had never failed him, despite what certain others might say.

But no matter how long he puzzled the problem laid out before him, something wasn't adding up. There was definitely a piece he was missing.

"Bobby, put your Legos away! Time for dinner!"

You Know It

Gordon refused to acknowledge the accusations Heather levied against him.

"It's you who's been sabotaging this relationship from the very beginning, not me."

"See, you're doing it again. You turn everything around. You know it, too." She was so angry, she was nearly choking on her tears. Heather always started crying whenever they got in an argument. To gain the upper hand. And he was sick of it.

"If you're so unhappy then let's just break up." Whenever he threatened ending everything, Heather immediately calmed down. She was scared of being alone and she knew it.

"I agree. We're through."

When I Get To Heaven

The dust stuck to everything, even my sweat. The heat wasn't as dry as everyone said. I'd be happy when this job was over and I could head back to the city.

The pay had been too good to say no. Five thousand bucks for a single target. I assumed there would be catch.

The catch was the location. Heaven, a town I'd never heard of, found just a few miles down from the edge of absolutely fucking nowhere.

If I wasn't headed to heaven to kill a man, I'd have assumed I was the one who was already dead.

Be

Sherman breathed deeply, concentrating on emptying his mind of all thoughts. The contradiction of thinking about not thinking about anything gave him a headache. His spiritual advisor instructed him to repeat his mantra at times like this.

"Be...be...be..."

He chose his mantra because of the fundamental reason he'd begun a meditation practice: he wanted to stop analyzing everything and just be. He wanted to overcome all of the angst that seemed to plague all of his waking thoughts, prevented him from sleeping and leaving him chronically depressed.

His advisor didn't understand. "Why do you sound like a bumblebee?"

No Paradise

We left our gear on the shore and braved the jungle. Verdant, mossy plants, swollen fruits, normal snakes and spiders. All expected. But that smell. Like sulfur. Why? As earth and rocks piled up it permeated everything. It coated our hair and settled into the weave of our clothes. Warnings went unheeded. When we summited, it was too late. The crag gave way to a cavernous cleft. It glared a stony glare. Then the ground shuttered. Then it trembled. In those final fleeing moments, choked in smoke, death raining down, we understood the island's ancient name: The Great Giant's Buttocks.

From Guest Contributor Nicholas De Marino