Live

The Fuhrer took everything. My husband, two sons, and our home that had been in the family for years. I’m all that’s left. The war is over, but who and what do I have to go back to. I lived through the filth and disease when everyone else was dying and there had been nothing I could do.

When the Americans arrived and liberated the camps, I fell to my knees and wept. I couldn’t believe it was over.

It’s tragic and my heart aches every-day, but I will continue to live, if not for myself then for my family.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Lisa has been writing since 2010 and has had many micro-flash fiction stories published. In 2018 her book, Shorts for the Short Story Enthusiasts, was published, and The Importance of Being Short in 2019. Her most recent book In A Flash, was published in the spring of 2022.

She currently resides on Long Island, New York with her husband Richard and dogs Lucy and Breanna.

Key

I rummage through drawers and cabinets before placing everything back. It hits me then. There must be a hidden key somewhere. I look under every piece of furniture and there it is under the desk chair. I scan the room and come across a painting of the Fuhrer that is askew. I remove it from the wall and find a safe. The key fits.

Inside are papers with the Nazi’s plans. I memorize what I can and place the picture and the key back, making haste through the rear entrance without being noticed.

Outside, I breathe a sigh of relief.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Blaze Of Glory

In the gloom a solitary light illuminated the Führer’s portrait.

“Two minutes oxygen left.”

No one responded.

Cross-legged like the Buddha, Steiner seemed at peace, thinking of his wife and son. Even Müller was becalmed, resigned to an iron coffin at nineteen.

Captain Mayer had himself fired the torpedo that sank the British battleship.

Submerging, a destroyer had detected them, the depth charge fracturing the hull.

They were the only three to survive, closing the hatch of the control room.

Losing consciousness, Mayer looked from the Führer’s eyes to the light. Ah! The explosion of the torpedo finding its target!

From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher

Ian is originally from South Wales. He studied English Literature at Oxford University many years ago. He lives in Taiwan with his family and is a high school teacher there. He has also been a freelance writer for over 14 years, writing articles for Taiwanese educational textbooks. He has had short stories published in various genres in Schlock! Webzine, Schlock! Bi-Monthly, Short-story.me, Anotherealm, Under the Bed, A Story In 100 Words, and in anthologies by Horrified Press and Rogue Planet Press. He is an Affiliate Member of the Horror Writers Association.