Idiot

I'm not scared of ghosts,” Sue says.

“Me too,” I reply with a smile.

“But I’d like to become one,” she continues.

“Why?” I am amused.

“Because ghosts can travel anywhere, overhear people and uncover their secrets, know the past and the future.”

“Hmmm…I’m not sure about that." I laugh.

“How do you know? Isn’t that what planchette, ouija boards and seances are for? People call spirits, ghosts to question them.”

“Well….” I stop with a smile. Sue has always been an idiot. Her ghost is also an idiot. She still hasn't been able to figure out I killed her.

From Guest Contributor Sushma R Doshi

A Pushcart nominee, Sushma holds a PhD in International Studies from Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. She likes to write and dream. She resides in India.

Diving

I’m not an idiot; I know that we are young and there’s a chance he can shatter my heart, but the difference is that I don’t care. Falling for him isn’t a choice; I can’t stop it even if I try. It’s taking a leap of faith, hoping to swim instead of sinking. I dive in, head first, not caring if I drown. At least I’d drown knowing that I found the love I always wanted, one greater than any love story ever told. And so I dive, falling deeper in love with him, hoping he wouldn’t break my heart.

From Guest Contributor Kelsey Swancott

Kelsey is a senior majoring in English with a minor in Visual Arts and Spanish while also being involved in the campus literary magazine Angles. She plans on furthering her education by getting her masters degree in English as well.

Irony

I’m very excited to announce the winner of our Hubris Flash Fiction Contest, from regular contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher. I hope that winning doesn't go to her head!

Congratulations Lisa! And thank you to everyone who submitted to the contest. It was difficult picking just one.Bill combed his hair, gave a thumbs up to his reflection in the mirror and then left.

He walked with a swagger and passing bystanders cussed him.

“It’s a pandemic, wear a mask, idiot,” yelled an irate man from across the street.

Bill flipped him the finger and continued.

When he arrived at his cousin's barbecue, he was stopped at the back gate.

“You can’t come in here without a mask,” said his cousin, Mark.

“Come on, man, I never get sick.”

Mark slammed the gate in his face.

Bill stood for a moment before walking away and then sneezed.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

I Should’ve Known Better

The sweat is dripping down my neck. I chug water to quench my thirst,but it doesn’t alleviate my heated body. Why did I promise my wife I’dplant the basil seeds today? Why? Because I’m an idiot and she knows it.If I have a heart attack, all she’ll care about is the garden.

I finally finish up and brush myself off. I can’t wait to feel the coolshower on my body.

“Did you finish up outside?”

“Yes, Dear, the planting is done.”

Now I know better than to have an affair with another woman in ourhouse.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Gift

Matthew has a friend who works at NASA. His friend Kent is on the team that is launching a manned mission to Mars next week.

On the day of the launch with the help of Kent he is able to sneak his girlfriend Kim aboard the ship.

A few hours after the launch, Kim wakes up. She is wearing a spacesuit with a note posted on her chest.

She reads the note. "I know you really want to go to Mars. Love, Matthew."

Kim screams, “You idiot, I said I want to go to the bars, get your hearing checked!”

From Guest Contributor Denny E. Marshall

Public Poems Built On Public Property

Public poems built on public property are, as they say, asking for it. When you use such flimsy bread, eating away at holy Wonder until such thinly-sliced letters remain, every one meant to be swallowed, not whispered; when you hold them down with found rocks in a stream that is not a stream, just a concrete ditch void of the hand of God; when you slip out the window in the night like a Sufi thief or an idiot child, praying the wrong way, dancing naked, licking vowels in your own nonsense languagedon’t expect to get anythingexceptarrested.

From Guest Contributor Brook Bhagat

After graduating with a BA in English from Vassar College, Brook Bhagat landed her first paid writing job as a reporter for a small-town Colorado newspaper. She left it to travel to India, where she fell in love, got married and canceled her ticket home. She and her husband Gaurav write freelance articles for dozens of publications, including Outpost, Ecoworld, and Little India. In 2013, they launched www.BluePlanetJournal.com, which she edits and writes for. She also teaches writing at a community college, is earning her MFA in Writing at Lindenwood University, and is writing a novel.

Ruby's Incontinence

“You’re such an asshole Chuck,” the back-braced senior citizen Ruby said as Chuck held the Stanford Medical Center elevator door open for her with one arm, balancing seven incontinence pads in his left.

Chuck smiled and pushed floor one.

“We’re parked in the basement you idiot.”

“I knew that, dear. I wanted to show you every floor so I’d get my money’s worth. $75,000 to fix a damned hernia.”

“You’d rather I be in pain, jerk?”

“Hmm… tough question.”

“Proves my point.”

“I love you enough to tolerate your usual grumpiness at the hospital.”

“Of course you do. You would.”

From Guest Contributor Jay Paul