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

Weightlifting

When he first started pushing barbells, he did it to get his anger out, throwing the weights from his body, stressing his tendons as he exhaled sprays of spit with every red-faced repetition, every sweaty pump. He realized his joints wouldn’t last long hurling metal, so he calmed his approach, traded manic intervals – of fighting gravity with fury – for calculated precision, and he’d demonstrate, lying down on a chair with an invisible bar connecting his fists, showing us the proper form of a barbell press, his big forearms and biceps flexing and twisting slowly as his muscles contracted, then extended.

From Guest Contributor Parker Wilson

Parker is a writer and editor living in Highland Park. He is a recent MFA graduate and spends his free time running along the Detroit River. He’s published in Bristol Noir and is a founding editor at DUMBO Press.

Instagram:@parkerreviewsbooks

Next Gas 190 Miles

Genevieve stepped down from her jeep at the lonely fueling station, according to the sign the last chance for services for 200 miles, and smoked a cigarette under the half-dead oak tree. A litany of lizards scurried away as she approached.

She wondered how many drivers stopped here in a day. She had passed maybe half a dozen vehicles the entire morning. She couldn't imagine how the people out here survived so far from civilization.

The old man working the pump had skin as weathered as the geckos' from too much sun. She decided to tip him an extra twenty.

Verbal Therapy

“Hello, sir!” she exclaimed as she and two friends got out of their old car.

“Hi,” I replied as I bent over to remove my gas cap.

After fourteen hours of steady driving, my seventy-year-old back hurt, but in two more hours I would be home. Our vacation would then be over.

While pacing behind my car, waiting for my wife and enjoying the warm summer evening, the three teenagers returned to their car parked at the gasoline pump ahead of me.

“Good-bye, sir!” she shouted as she closed her car door before pulling away.

My back no longer hurt.

From Guest Contributor Gerald E. Greene

Wrong Turn

Gareth and Melissa knew they were lost when they reached the gas station. It seemed abandoned, with the rusted pump and the crooked sign and the station house that had collapsed years previously.

They argued bitterly, with each blaming the other. Melissa had missed the turnoff, Gareth had refused to look at the map. But their anger towards each other was really just a mask for their own fears.

The station pump was well over 3 meters tall. They couldn't be sure when it had happened, but sometime during the night they had crossed over into the land of giants.