The Manor

The enormous house consisted of large acres of land with an abundance of flower and vegetable gardens. Violet’s only companion was her cat Missy.

She walked down the basement steps, the kerosene lamp, her only light. The stairs creaked and the ghastly noise churned her stomach.

When Violet reached the top shelf and grabbed a bucket, something brushed her leg. Startled, she tripped, fell, and hit her head unconscious. Missy pawed her arm until she awakened.

“Missy, don’t do that again.” Violet rubbed her lump and walked upstairs with Missy trailing behind.

In the basement, the deceased prior owner chortled.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M.Scuderi-Burkimsher

Humbug New Year’s

On the television, the ball in Time’s Square dropped. “Happy New Year,” the crowd shouted. I gulped my wine, not a fan of champagne, and shut the TV. After all, I detested New Year’s Eve. It’s a lonely holiday for some, myself included, and I’d rather get drunk on wine in the comfort of my own home, warm by the fire.

Tired, I took off my robe, climbed into bed and turned off the lamp. I told myself, tomorrow would be just another day.

Instead of spending the first day of the new year relaxing, I typed my resignation letter.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Maxine and Me

Linda bought it for me at the museum gala. "So many wonderful things for a donation." she said, "You should have come, my dear! Meet new people."

She's part mother, part matchmaker. I need both.

But do I need this? A burnt, ugly, pockmarked lump of rock. The note with it read "Deaccessioned. Meteorite acquired by Dr. Harris, Labrador 1905. Once much larger, visitors took pieces for many years."

My friend must think I'm like this thing. Dark, scarred. Fragmentary since Bruce left.

I call it Maxine. Sits brooding under a lamp on my desk. We keep each other company.

From Guest Contributor Karen Walker

The Rant In The Lamp

In my perfect prison of smooth, curving walls, I dread the serpentine rope, curling on the bottom of the well.

No escape by that plaited ladder. It is a sucking wick, a path to punishment above in the glass panopticon, where they burn me alive.

With my light, without their night, those heedless animals cook and sing and flirt, while I, burning, dwindle and darken the glass.

I have suffered long in this prison well, and I have chosen my end. Once I am no more than soot and foul air, with my last, dry gasps, I will poison them.

From Guest Contributor Virginia Marybury

Relationships

I was about to toss you out. End our years of coexistence.

Reminiscing helped me see you in a new light. Made me realize how goodyou’ve been to me.

Through difficult as well as good times you were there for me. Yourgoal to please was simple. You aimed to brighten my dark evenings andmake me feel safe at night when I couldn’t sleep.

I’m thankful for your enduring warmth. For without you, I wouldn’thave been able to orientate myself in these surroundings. Nor read myfavorite books.

Lamp I’ve owned for countless years, we belong together.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work hasbeen published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 wordstory, 101 Words, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (HauntedWaters Press), ShortbreadStories, SixWordMemoirs, and EspressoStories.

Genie: The Musical

So Naomi found this old lamp in the attic. When she was cleaning it off, a genie appeared and granted her one wish. Before anyone could stop her, she wishes for her life to become just like in a musical.

That's all well and good for her. She's married to a handsome tenor (though I reckon he's probably gay) and every dramatic moment in her life gets played out in song form.

I, on the other hand, never get to say (or sing) anything. I'm just the guy in the back trying to keep time during all the dance numbers.