I'm A Blessed Man

Last night wasn't enough. I wanna take her robe off and enjoy her all over again on the table after breakfast. Fuck work! I'll call off to touch her all over again all day. I'll no-call-no-show to taste her all over again all day. I'll pay a co-worker to clock me in to be in paradise all over again all day. Unfortunate for me bosses don't pay employees to be stay-at-home husbands. Unfortunate for me sex don't pay the bills. She hands me my briefcase and keys. Kisses me goodbye. Tells me she loves me. Sees me off to work.

From Guest Contributor Gary L. Dozier

In Love I Do Write

“Sorry, Ma’am. Nothing.”

Isabel nodded, dismissing the housekeeper. Tears accompanied her sullen soul.

In earlier times she and Alfred exchanged letters frequently. Physical distance between them, when he left for war, mattered not. Had the passion vanished?

Not for her. How could she forget their tireless walks in the countryside, their invigorating conversations, or his warm smiling eyes? He, the son of her parents’ friends.

The expected letter eventually arrived, as did others following.

Only after Isabel and Alfred had died was their love revealed to the world, in a manuscript—a collection of hundreds of letters penned between them.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

For the prompts Manuscript and Letter.

Tempting Flavors

He tempted her with a single scarlet rose. Enchanted by its silky petals, she fell in love. When a thorn pricked her finger, she shied away. He tempted her with ripe raspberries. Delighted by tart nectar, she fell in love. When the berry’s cane scratched her skin, she shied away. He tempted her with an apple. Charmed by candied sweetness, she fell in love. When she discovered it was a forbidden fruit, she shied away. She tempted him with fermented flavors of rose, raspberry, and apple. Seduced by her ingenuity, he fell in love, and they drank happily ever after.

From Guest Contributor Elizabeth Murphy

Roses

Apprehension accompanied me to my car. How would they react? With sadness? Indifference?I placed the bouquet lovingly into the trunk, holding back tears.

The intended beholders knew nothing of its history. Nor of the person who presented it to me. Roses, once of warmth and vivid pink, had crumpled to shades of aged dryness. Like his love did, when he left for another and I didn’t realize he meant it for real.

I set the vase onto my desk in the classroom, for my art students to observe, interpret and present their creativity onto canvas—of a life stilled.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Hello Goodbye

Life is all about the timing.

I fell in love over the course of a several hours last Saturday. I'd only intended to stay out a couple hours, as I was still processing my recent breakup. But then I met Alex. We ended up dancing and talking until dawn, bouncing from one club to the next around the city, and I decided that here, finally, was the love of my life.

It turns out he was pulling one last all-nighter before leaving for a new posting in Olive Branch, Mississippi.

Just as I was saying hello, he was saying goodbye.

Corn Maze Days

Corn maze stocks walk along, step by step, in endless motion. Lefts turned to rights back to lefts, leave us wondering and wandering alongside the corn maze. Eleven in the morning turns to seven at night, soon the moon will guide our way. Apple cider dances while the fire flickers, old folks singing folk songs. Knit sweaters insulate the warmth of your love, arms wrapped around my waist. Shadows once trailing, we now chase. Mama made a pie, pie's been cooling on the counter, calling our name. One more corner, one more corner turns a long day to sweet dreams.

From Guest Contributor Mekah Baker

Mekah is a student of literature and the applied sciences at Pikes Peak State College.

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

Living In Paradise

Robert repeats his mantra as he tries to concentrate on nothing but his breathing.

Every moment is a paradise. Every moment is a paradise.

He remembers his trip to Bali, floating in the ocean surf as the sun set over the horizon. That was paradise.

He remembers looking into his eyes and the world disappearing in the totality of their love. That was paradise.

He opens his eyes surreptitiously and glances about the room. The faux-wood floors, the scent of cleaner in the air, the sad plant in the corner.

This is not a paradise. This is not a paradise.

Wiser Now

As I listen to him lecture in the big hall surrounded by white boards full of equations, I know I can only swallow small sips from the fire hose of knowledge that flows from his mind and mouth, flooding the audience with his insight until it streams from their eyes, light filling the room and bouncing off the windows; and I must turn my mind from his most recent threat to divorce me to how it all started: a campus lawn, a daisy, the Quantum Uncertainty of petals on the subject of love─ he loves me, he loves me not.

From Guest Contributor Cheryl Snell

Truth

When I awoke in the hospital, I knew the truth. The agonizing pain in my back, the nurses rushing me to the operating room, with the walls spinning around me. The doctor's “everything will be okay, Katie.” But it isn’t.

I’m bleary eyed from the sedative, but I feel a hand in mine, my husband’s. I’m too weary and can’t speak, so I give his hand a squeeze, and he gently squeezes mine back. He speaks of his love for me and how he’ll never leave. Then the doctor comes in and he lets go.

“Will my wife walk again?”

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher