Until Death

When I rode my bicycle past the Nazis they laughed and threw rocks at me. They hated our kind, and it was time to leave. I had no family, and lived in a small apartment alone, so it wouldn’t take long to pack. I neatly folded my suits and placed them into the luggage. I took the money I saved, stuffed it inside my jacket pocket, took one last look around and walked out the door to the train station.

A few months later, the Jewish families were rounded up and taken to camps.

My heart would ache until death.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Great Beyond

“I don’t know how I feel about myself anymore?” I asked. The long quiet hallways of the in-patient unit were brightly lit and sterile.

“The mental health journey is a hard process,” the counselor mentioned. I picked up my heavy luggage and walked to the door. Nathaniel, an elderly man with a cane methodically lumbered the length of the hall to catch me.

“I wanted to tell you something,” he said. “I think you are an amazing person, and I hope to see you in the great beyond.”

I exhaled deeply and walked through the doorway looking at the sun.

From Guest Contributor Steve Colori

Tire Chains

"I'm packing tire chains in the boys' luggage. Just wrap them around the tires," the father of my two nephews advised.

"Sounds easy." I reply. "We'll have fun in the snow!"

Three days later, my nephews and I are standing by the snow-laden roadside with tire chains wrapped around the axle.

We look forlorn and lost. A park ranger passes by, a CHP passes by, and a dozen travelers glance at a young woman and two children in distress.

"Lady? Need some help?" says a tatooed Hell's Angel over the roar of his Harley.

"Please! You are an angel. Thanks."

From Guest Contributor Deborah Shrimplin

A Gift

A man with similar looking bags hopped into my cab. He rudely declined my offer to help with his baggage. It was an hour’s drive. He went into a hotel. After the day’s work I went home. I saw a bag in the trunk. I recognized the bag. It was late, I hurried back to the hotel, described him at the desk. I knocked at his door. He was surprised to see me holding his bag. He thanked me for the honesty, offered a token of appreciation. I declined. The awkward look on his face was itself a memorable reward.

From Guest Contributor Thriveni C. Mysore.