If The World Stops While Having Coffee

“I felt a lurch.”

“I think it’s stopped.”

“All that spinning. What did it come to?”

“To leave or not, that is the question.”

“What if we need oxygen? Have you any squirreled away?”

“I confess I don’t.”

“What do you think? Should we blow this pop stand?”

“I always loved that expression. Now we’re saying the world is a pop stand.”

“Is that a yes?”

“I’d like to finish my coffee first.”

“Remember loose change? I still have a quarter. How about heads, we leave?”

“Who carries oxygen?”

“Amazon, no doubt.”

“Go ahead. Flip it.”

“Here we go!”

“Maybe!”

From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe

Linda's stories and poems have appeared in BOMBFIRE, The New Verse News, Microfiction Monday, Six Sentences, and others.

Soothing Sounds

As soon as I entered the apartment, I felt the heavy air of disappointment. Lauren hadn’t made the all-star team. She’d been practicing her foul shots and layups for months. She was curled into the recliner with a blanket tucked under her chin. I knew better than to speak to her.

On my way into the kitchen, it struck me that my father had discovered texting and Face Time on his cell phone. I shot him a text, turned the speaker on, and my father’s warmth came through my phone.

“Pop Pop” Lauren squealed, jumping and tossing the blanket aside.

From Guest Contributor Edith Gallagher Boyd

Mortal Sin

Shawn ran from the confessional like the Devil might grab him by the collar and drag him back down to Hell.

"What'd you get?" I whispered.

"Nothing. He said it was just a minor sin." I smiled. If stealing money from the donation box was considered minor, I was scot-free.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I left a mess in the rectory."

I didn't know what excommunicated meant but I felt I'd been unjustly served until my Pop said that Father Flannery obeyed only one dictate: cleanliness was next to Godliness. Violations were treated as a mortal sin.