Gratitude

“So nice,” Sarah thought, reciprocating a friendly wave.

She would’ve helped if her arthritic hands weren’t an issue. Instead, she watched the next door neighbor bend countless times to weed a bountiful garden.

When showy bouquets were presented at her front door, Sarah returned the favor with her baking. When her husband died, the neighbor had arranged funeral flowers free of charge.

Drought settled the following year. Flowering plants suffered. Rosebuds dried, not getting a chance to bloom. Much of the garden had dwindled.

Unlike the blossoming friendship between the two women, who found themselves together at a seniors’ lodging.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction regardless of the season, although she prefers spring.

The Curse Of The Wormhole

You look like a sailor, sir. I thought so. Do me a favor, will you? Take me with you. You could use a talisman in space. Listen, I used to be just like you. How did I get my peg leg? Aye, I wrestled a space shark and lost my leg. After we passed through a wormhole, we ran aground here. All I do now is meow, lick my paws clean, and cough up hairballs. I’m easy to care for. I promise. Proud to be potty trained. Tuna-flavored Meow Mix will do. Take me with you. You won’t regret it.From Guest Contributor Umiyuri KatsuyamaTranslated by Toshiya Kamei

Umiyuri Katsuyama is a Japanese writer of fantasy and horror. In 2011, she won the Japan Fantasy Novel Award with her novel Sazanami no kuni. Her latest novel, Chuushi, ayashii nabe to tabi wo suru, was published in 2018. Her short fiction has appeared in numerous horror anthologies in Japan.

She Looked On The Bright Side

“Going to the wedding, are you?” The SuperValu cashier jigged the question as the wiry woman with blowzy white hair fished coins from her purse for the crossword lotto cards lying on the counter. “Here you go, exactly.” She plunked the coins down and scooped up her cards. “Hope you’re a winner. Spelling games are my pet picks,” quipped the cashier. “Yes, I deserve a good spell; even though these daily lotto spoil everything. I’ll be back in a short bit to bet on today’s talk of the town. I have a hunch the odds are running in my favor.”

From Guest Contributor M.J. Iuppa

Apple Of His Eye

I see the favor he shows him and it sickens me. Everything seems to be given so freely in this world. And here is one after his own heart, obeying without even the slightest hesitation, never once questioning the directions he is given. There was a time when I was a follower, but I had ambition and drive. He couldn’t take it. Some may call it punishment, but I like to think of it as enlightenment. If this fool won’t come to his senses, perhaps that nice new companion can be swayed. I see the way she eyes that apple.

From Guest Contributor Nicholas Froumis

Nicholas practices optometry in the Bay Area. His writing has appeared in Gravel, Right Hand Pointing, Dime Show Review, Snapdragon: A Journal of Art & Healing, Ground Fresh Thursday, Balloons Lit Journal, and Short Tale 100. He lives in San Jose, CA with his wife, novelist Stacy Froumis, and their daughter.

A Long Trip

The neighbor came over and knocked on my door. The rain fell in torrents.

“Come inside,” I said.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just be a minute.” Garbed in a raincoat, he rested an axe against his shoulder.

“Returning this,” he said.

“Oh, thanks.”

“Might be a bit dull.”

“No problem. I have a whetstone.”

“Need another favor,” he said.

“Sure.”

“Need to borrow a shovel.” I thought it odd, but I fetched a shovel for him. He turned and began to leave.

“Hey Bill,” I said. “Is Grace back from her trip yet?”

He walked away. Only the wind replied.

From Guest Contributor Dave Lignell