The Wall

The city was surrounded by a wall. In the distant past, whatever architects built the city had ensured there was plenty of room to expand, with the wall erected far from the center. They probably believed there was so much space that they'd never run out. Or that the city would die before it grew so large as to matter.

But here we were teeming like a coffee cup, the only thing holding the place together an invisible tension that might burst at any moment.

No one knew what, if anything, existed beyond the wall. Only that it was dangerous.

For the prompt Frontier

Dive Night

From the street, the Cowpony looks like a generic Tucson bar. Nondescript, squat, windowless. Cowboy silhouette on the exterior.

Gerry and I wander inside. The back room features an empty pool table. I rack the balls. Gerry breaks them, sinks the eight ball. Decrepit characters wait beside the bar for karaoke to begin. They leer at us and wink.

“This place reminds me of my misspent youth,” I say.

Gerry thumbs through the karaoke catalog. “Let’s stay a while. There’s a Steely Dan song I want to sing.”

I settle into the booth. It’s going to be a long evening.

From Guest Contributor Leah Mueller

The Opera

I met Katherine at the opera, where I’d shared a box with her and her partner, a tall brute of a man. During the interval, they rowed; he stormed out. After the finale, Katherine and I went back to my place.

The next morning, as we were leaving my flat, a big Merc pulled up next to us. Her boyfriend sat in the front passenger seat, face like thunder.

I had a feeling of dread when two swarthy-faced, black leather-jacketed men jumped out, bundled her into their car, and drove off with her. She was never ever seen again.

From Guest Contributor Val De Vere

A Dozen

Mort motioned to the waitress who took her time getting to the booth.

“Is this place okay?”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I just saw a fly.”

The waitress, with the name ‘Marge’ stenciled on her food-stained uniform, twisted her face.

“Are you sure?”

“I know a fly when I see one. And Claudette saw another one over there.”

Claudette nodded, pointing to the empty counter where a bulbous-headed insect stumbled erratically.

“Only two?”

“What’d you mean ‘only?’”

“Look, I get your point. A dozen or more flies aren't going to be wrong about a diner. But you saw only two in here…

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Eating at Fromkin's

The larvae of beetles and moths – often described as bookworms – enjoy eating manuscripts and printed material. Lem, a Drugstore Beetle larva, Clem, a Cigarette Beetle larva, and Mel, a developing moth, burrowed away at Fromkin's Bookshop, after Al Fromkin locked up the place and drove to his small condo in Northeast Philadelphia.

Lem held his abdomen with four of his legs. “That manuscript was awful.”

“Tell me about it.” Clem had burrowed through several letters Al Fromkin left on his imitation oak desk.

Both were sick as dogs.

Mel smiled. “I finished a 100-word story. I feel pretty good, actually.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

For the prompts Manuscript and Letter.

Stupid Planet Cruises

I can hardly wait. This is going to be a good one I know, another one with no faster than light speed travel. So primitive. Do you ever wonder why anyone would ever go to a smart planet? It would be just like being home in Karg. Boring. The guide to this blue and green planet says they fight and kill each other. Can you imagine something so stupid? We’d better put on armor under our earth disguise, so someone doesn’t kill us at random. We’re landing in a place called Portland Oregon where something called government impoverishes the locals.

From Guest Contributor Doug Hawley

Gross Malpractice

No one had ever seen so many lawyers in one place before. It seemed their number was approaching infinity, but only because the sight was truly incomprehensible.

"I'm afraid we have some bad news. Our move to dismiss was rejected."

"You assured me the case had no legal basis."

"Yes, but that was before the issue of dogs was introduced. People seem pretty upset they don't live at least as long as people."

"The term gross malpractice is beginning to be bandied about."

God shook his head regretfully. Maybe the whole creation thing should have been more carefully thought out.

Anytime Anywhere

Dave and Heather sat in cafe and looked at their phones. There was a lot David wanted to say, but the place was crowded and he didn't want to be overheard.

He texted her instead.

I'm sorry.

For what?

Everything.

It's not an apology if you don't acknowledge what you did wrong.

Why'd she have to be so difficult?

I wasn't the one who broke her promise.

Still not an apology.

Heather set her phone on the table and looked out the window. Before the screenlock came on, David noticed she was looking at flight times.

So much for promises.

Island Of Souls

Simon woke up in the sand, waves lapping against his legs. For once his pants weren't soaking wet from urine.

He braced for a hangover to wash over him that never came. After a few moments he struggled to his feet, trying to piece together where he was and how he ended up here. Not the strangest place he's woken up, but he seemed far from a Starbucks. He'd even settle for a 7/11 at this point, but all he saw was the empty beach in either direction.

Maybe running away from his intervention had been a bad idea.

Rainbow Potato

I tell myself I don’t belong here, and I don’t. The place is home to depressives, insomniacs, winos, recidivists. Trains pass through without whistling or slowing down. Meanwhile, stacks of coffins keep arriving in the dark by truck. The first thing I do most mornings is examine my face in the mirror for signs of fresh trauma. There was one morning when I asked Google if rainbow and potato rhyme. The answer came back, “Not exactly.” A handsome young drifter, stepping off the overnight bus from Providence, smiles plausibly while wearing a necklace of human ears tucked inside his shirt.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie's latest book is Frowny Face, a mix of his prose poems and handmade collages from Redhawk Publications.