Change Of Heart

Think of it as a substitute pump,” the surgeons encourage him. “Latest technology, stringent testing. Equally life-enhancing as the heart God gave you.”

Will it buy him time for his daughter’s imminent wedding? Or beyond, and a new grandchild?

“Side effects include problematic emotional disorders.”

Surely morning birdsong, leisurely travel, favourite classical music will quiet unexplained turmoil.

He acquiesces, yet flails against this plastic invader into his chest.

Without warning, a fog enwraps his mind, shrouds familiar feelings. The mystifying retreat of joy, sorrow, empathy panics him. Why has love for his daughter vanished?

Oblivious, his new heart pumps steadily.

From Guest Contributor Gary Thomson

Policy Of Truth

At age 16, Brenda promised she would only tell the truth. She had always detested lies, even little white ones, and felt sick when forced to feign compliments. Even worse, when she found out she'd been lied to after the fact, she especially hated being told it was out of a desire to save her feelings. Sounded more like an excuse to avoid a hard conversation.

Brenda found honesty liberating in many ways, including the shedding of former friendships. But the best part had to be how much she enjoyed justifying her innate cruelty by her commitment to total veracity.

The Truth And Nothing But The Truth

HUBRIS CONTEST

At a young age, Bjorn swore he would never tell another lie. For others, this might have been a quickly forgotten boast, but for him it was the mantra he would forever live by.

In the beginning, it was relatively easy to always tell the truth. But gradually he found that being honest frequently hurt the feelings of those closest to him. He began to meticulously avoid human connection, because this way he would never have to disappoint anyone by telling them how he really felt.

What had initially seemed like a valiant choice eventually became Bjorn's life long curse.

From Guest Contributor Gil Anders

Regrets

I write my own praises, dictating stories to muckrakers. Advisors insist on it.

I ran for office to serve. Tragedy. Much is given, much is expected.

I spout platitudes with such grace, it scares me.

Advisors expect me to conduct myself with grace. Don’t show feelings.

Constituents expect a shining prince, savior of liberalism.

I drink copiously, the moon as my witness. I can’t contain the weight of demands, desires.

I wake up on stairwells and in closets, hangovers uniquely my own machination.

I feel failure pirouetting, a taunting ballerina. She’s right to taunt.

But I’m not allowed to regret.

From Guest Contributor Yash Seyedbagheri.

Yash is a graduate of Colorado State University's MFA program in fiction. He is the recipient of two Honorable Mentions from Glimmer Train. His story, "Strangers," was nominated for The Best Small Fictions. Mir-Yashar's work is forthcoming or has been published in journals such as (mac)ro (mic), Runcible Spoon, JAB Fiction and Poetry, Unstamatic, and Ariel Chart.

Gone

Twenty years of marriage, twenty years of building a life together. Buying houses and cars. Now she is gone.

For twenty years, she was my everything. The smile in my morning, the sunshine in my day. But now it is dark and quiet.

One argument led to cruel words. Cruel words led to hurt feelings. Hurt feelings took time to heal, but heal they did. Things returned to normal for us. Life continued for us as a couple. Then it happened.

One episode of indiscretion, it wasn’t such a big deal. Deal breaker, she said. She is never coming back.

From Guest Contributor NT Franklin

Honest

She rarely lied. Sure, there was the occasional well-intended compliment to spare someone's feelings. She might make a prevarication of convenience when the full story would take too long to explain. She didn't consider these lies.

And it certainly wasn't dishonest to keep her genuine opinions hidden when the truth could serve no purpose but to engender an argument. Even when she was honest, he would challenge her and pick apart every little detail, hoping to catch her in a falsehood. So what difference did it make if not everything was one hundred percent the truth?

But she rarely lied.

Patchwork

I was eighteen when I met you. I did not like you. When I was nineteen - I kissed you. My feelings changed. When I was twenty - I slept in your arms. My heart changed. When I was twenty-one I slept with you. I did not love you. You broke my heart for the first time. It healed.

Twenty years later, you still call. My heart has been sewn, ripped apart, and patched back together. It has been systematically desensitized from your ploys and is now just existing somewhere between my stomach and lungs. Biological in space yet empty in soul.

From Guest Contributor Lindsey Stevens

He Dreamed Betrayal

Allen awoke from his morning dream reluctantly because he didn't want to face the disturbing reality of what it might mean.

Why had he been kissing his best friend's wife? He'd known Samantha for years, and in fact had been at the party when she first met Tim. They were perfect together. Did this dream mean that he secretly had feelings for her.

Sure, he'd been sleeping with Samantha for months, but that was just sex. It didn't mean anything. Yet what if he actually had some affection for her. That would be a betrayal of his friendship with Tim.