The Lost Notebook

I looked for it everywhere I could think to look. Under chairs and beds. In the clutter on the kitchen counter. Behind cushions. No luck. I’ve lost my notebook or had it stolen. The notebook is nothing fancy, a simple assignment pad like the ones we used in school. But I might as well have lost my soul. The notebook contains notes for poems and explosions. I’ve been unable to proceed without it. Words won’t obey like they once did. I’m a mirror without glass, a rocket ship without blastoff, a donor heart without a box to put it in.From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie's latest poetry collection, True Crime, is scheduled to be published by Sacred Parasite in early 2026.

Lost Children

One morning, the adults of Sycamore woke up to find that all of the children had disappeared. There were no signs of abduction or notes left behind and, even more curious, it appeared that many of them had packed bags of clothes and favorite belongings before they departed.

A meeting was convened. An argument ensued. The parents blamed the police. The police blamed the parents. Rivals and political adversaries threatened violence. The fault lines of the town were laid bare.

Eventually, a letter arrived. It read:

"To our parents,

Get your shit together or we're never coming back.

-Your children"

Top Ten Tips For Spies In The Dentist’s Office Waiting Room

1. Power down the flip phone (V2.0) hidden in your black loafers.

2. Set video camera sunglasses to record in 4K resolution.

3. Be suspicious of anyone sporting sunglasses in waiting room.

4. Scan wall posters for cryptic ciphers such as ‘Password=PW123.’

5. Take notes, e.g., ‘Subject has engaged eye contact.’

6. Respond with ‘thank you’ if anyone says ‘You’re acting all weird, man.’

7. Refuse offers of Xylitol-laced lollipops, esp. sour cherry flavoured.

8. Ask yourself, ‘Does my dentist have a Russian accent?’

9. Keep eyes open, mouth shut, antenna tuned.

10. Avoid divulging important state secrets while sedated.

From Guest Contributor Elizabeth Murphy

Dr. Marks

Dr. Marks observes Tommy. “How are you feeling?”

Tommy fidgets. “Okay.”

Dr. Marks writes on her pad and then looks at Tommy again. “Tell me about your friend Sal.”

“He stands up for me when the other kids are mean. Isn’t that right, Sal?” Tommy turns to the empty chair next to him.

“Tommy, was Sal there when Charlie took your lunch?”

“Yeah, he hit him with his history book.”

Dr. Marks writes more notes.

“Tommy, you’re going to be staying here for a while.

“Me and Sal?”

Dr. Marks places a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Yes, you and Sal.”

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Parts

There are so many parts. Kept in so many places. Compartments. Boxes. Bags. Bottles of fragile glass. Crumpled notes. Silent emotions. Screaming thoughts. Swept under the rug, in full view for all to see. No one cares to look. Feet itch. Throats burn and choke. There is pain. A fullness in the head. Legs are terrified. Hips want to cry. I don’t know why. Go, in search of questions. Lost with all your parts. Unable to fix. Unable to stop. Unable to flee. Unable to look you in the eye. Scared of what you already know. Parts of a whole.

From Guest Contributor Courtney King

Waitress And The Ventriloquist

She had sun-streaked hair. I told her we could have a quickie after the show but she just looked blankly at Murphy, the doll. That night I jerked off with Murphy and cussed him for missing my chance with her. He looked on with the wooden smile, his wooden fingers clenched tight by his side. Murphy said cute things that day. People laughed at the stale jokes about slavery. I saw her reach out for the tip. And then she walked past me, with sad the ruffle of notes in her bodice. A little girl came up and hugged Murphy.From Guest Contributor Sreemanti Sengupta

Sreemanti writes fiction and poetry (Losing Friends - Alien Buddha Press 2.0) while occasionally dabbling in collage art. Some of her haikus have been translated to French and a poem read out at City Lights Bookstore, NY. She runs The Odd Magazine and Odd Books.

The Search For Meaning

The purpose of the meeting wasn't revealed beforehand.

Timothy walked into the boardroom carrying notebook and coffee, ready for anything. He dutifully took notes as the minutes were recited, then listened as each department head read their reports covering the previous 24 hours.

An argument broke out over the order of the reports. The company would not refer to it as an argument, but rather a protocol discussion. The minutes wouldn't make note of the raised voices on both sides.

Eventually, the meeting broke up. Everyone returned to their cubicles.

Timothy still had no idea why the meeting was convened.

Inconsolable

When Daniel heard the first notes of the song begin to play, he immediately broke out in inconsolable sobs. The best efforts of those around him only made his hysterics worse. The tears ran off his cheeks and began soaking into his collar and tie.

"I'm sorry," he kept repeating between desperate breaths. "It's just...that song...always does this to me."

"Pull yourself together, Jones. This is no time to blubber."

Daniel looked around, first at his boss, then his marketing associates at the conference table. The clients were there as well. Indeed, this was no time to blubber.