For A Laugh

Tina sat in the back of a taxi on her phone. She looked up, and her breath caught.

No longer was she staring at the glass partition; instead a bear stared down at her, its black eyes boring into her.

She screamed and threw her phone. It bounced off its head.

It roared, its canines glistening. “Stop!” The bear growled. It shook her, its claws digging into her.

Tina freed her pepper spray and emptied it in the bear’s eyes.

“The hell?” The cabbie screamed, falling to the ground, grabbing his face.

A twisted laugh carried faintly on the wind.

From Guest Contributor Madison Randolph

Madison is a reader by day and a writer by night. Her works have appeared in Friday Flash Fiction, The Drabble, Bright Flash Literary Review, Spillwords, The Chamber Magazine, A Story in 100 Words, Free Flash Fiction, Microfiction Monday as well as 101 Words under the name Ryker Hayes. She resides in Oklahoma with her family and dog Belle where she spends her time sharpening her writing skills and drinking large amounts of coffee. Her works can be found here. She can be found on Instagram @madisonrandolph17

She Would Be Worried

Sometimes, words were just not enough. She took

snapshots daily— her plated meals of living alone.

No explanation of how these fresh organic tastes

styled homespun comfort, like an old friend who

knew how to sit across from her and not say any-

thing, and waited until the meal’s dialog was lost in

a twitchy laugh; always with an index finger raised

to red lips to snuff out the danger of being intimate.

She liked the idea of having company; but didn’t

want to show anyone where she truly lived. Pst—

pst, pst— this secret joke exploded in her head.

From Guest Contributor M.J.Iuppa

M.J. Iuppa’s fourth poetry collection is This Thirst (Kelsay Books, 2017). For the past 32 years, she has lived on a small farm near the shores of Lake Ontario. Check out her blog: mjiuppa.blogspot.com for her musings on writing, sustainability & life’s stew.

Her Greatest Love Affair

On her death bed, Jennifer's thoughts don't dwell on her husband, despite several decades of marriage and two children together.

It's Mateo she remembers instead. Jennifer was only meant to spend three days in Barcelona, but she switched out her ticket and let her friends travel on to Italy without her.

She remembers Mateo's laugh, and the way he mispronounced her name in the cutest way. She remembers the passion when they made love in his flat beneath the open window.

It was only two weeks, but that was enough time to know Mateo was the love of her life.

At The Lake

Sitting in the sun with her friends at the lake, she hoped for Cannon Stevens to notice her, she hoped her mother wouldn’t notice her tan line, and she hoped she didn’t get burned.

Water hit her legs and she jumped up and ran towards Cannon who stood laughing in the shallows. Scooping water up with her hands, she splashed him and he grabbed her hands, his laugh turning into a silly grin.

That night, her mom flipped, “Bikini lines! Not on my daughter!”

Aloe couldn’t heal the cigarette burns on her stomach.

The lake water and Cannon’s touch did.

From Guest Contributor Tyrean Martinson

Tyrean is a daydreamer, believer, and writer who lives in the Northwest.

My Armor

He was my life, my armor, my smile, my savior, my everything. Lost him! I Will never see him again. I'm sad, grief stricken, but not devastated. I did my best, was there for him with everything required to always keep him going. I did love him more than anybody else and we shared the same feeling. He loved me more than anybody else. His kisses I miss. I don't cry but long for him secretly. All day I laugh, I'm merry with my toddler. The moment I close my eyes he's there waiting for me.

I sleep more now...

From Guest Contributor Manmeet S Chadha

Delhi Rape Case

Cell 1: Driver. Charged with rape and murder. Known as "mental/alcoholic."Escaped punishment by suicide.Cell 2: Brother of driver. Charged with same. Kept in solitary confinement after assault from inmates.Hung to death.Cell 3: Gym instructor. Guilty of kidnapping, robbery, rape, murder.Death sentence.Cell 4: Fruit Seller. Guilty of "rarest of rare." Raped so hard; intestines bled.Death penalty; followed by cheering by crowd.Cell 5: Unemployed man; commits atrocities to pass time and have a laugh.Death penalty.Cell 6: Minor. Charged with rape and immense body mutilation.Tried as juvenile. 3-year sentence.

Fuck Justice.

From Guest Contributor Suhasini Patni

Suhasini is a second year undergraduate at Ashoka University, in India, studying English literature. She has previously published a book review in The Tishman Review and a micro-fiction piece with A Quiet Courage, and hopes to publish many more. She is new to the publishing world but loves to write.

Affinity

You talk in your sleep. At first I thought it was adorable. I’d lean my ear closer to your head on my chest and catch things like, “Silly penguin doesn’t even know!” or “Better take that milk back to Saturn tomorrow.” I’d laugh and go back to reading and hold you closer. Then things changed, starting with when you arched your back away from me and hissed like a demon cat from hell. I didn’t hold you closer after that, and it’s gotten weirder since. Now I lay awake on my side of the bed, wondering what you’ll do next.

From Guest Contributor Sarah Reddick

Sarah is a writer who spent ten years learning the hard way in Mississippi and she will always be grateful for that state's ability to give a body the blues. She is currently enrolled in the MFA program at Lindenwood University in St. Charles, MO. Her work has previously been published in The Local Voice, Salt Zine, Cattywampus Magazine, and the Mid-Rivers Review.

The Final Conversation

They walked the long way to her house, so they had extra time before they reached her porch. She had a previous engagement and he wasn't invited inside.

The conversation had been lovely. They'd shared their most embarrassing moments. They made each other laugh. They held hands. They kissed around the corner, and didn't care who might see them. He would remember it fondly forever.

It was their final conversation. He stopped returning her phone calls or answering her letters. He feared things ending on a bad note, so he had waited for the perfect moment to break things off.