Fur Baby

My small fur baby, fifteen-years-old, passed away gently in my arms. Before she closed her lids for the final time, she looked at me with her big brown eyes and gently patted my arm, as if to say thank you for the years of love and care.

As I held her softly, I whispered that she was a joy and gave my life purpose as only a sweet dog can do.

I brushed her ear forward, kissed her tiny head and her hair tickled my face.

Goodbye my cute one, you were loved and will be forever in my heart.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You

It's been three months since you died, but it could have been three days or three years. This time, this forever after, is something separate from our former life. Some people thought you a burden, but I was a volunteer, an eager one at that.

Life with you was never a burden. You provided clarity. Companionship. Purpose. The meaning of selflessness.

Now, this existence, this is the burden. Having to live without you is the burden. Not because this life is bad. But because your absence overwhelms even the best moments.

You are the best friend I will ever have.

His Stuff

Junk: garbage to some, treasure to others, clutter at best, navigational obstacle on flooring, the cause of falls and injury…

Antonio learned firsthand. The architect of his own disaster, he sat idly on an easy chair, arm in cast, pondering what to do with all his stuff.

Quite unexpectedly a lightbulb lit up his mind, showing him the way. Creativity reawakened. His heart warmed with new purpose. He sprung to work.

Praises from the artistic community accelerated his mission. Photos of his unique collages went viral. He was crowned ‘artist extraordinaire’.

…all because of the ‘junk’ in his humble abode.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Multiverse Question?

Wandering the multiverse. I find the concept of change the bi-word of everything. One day, the illusion spells the reality of a word one way. The next day, the reality spells it another. The definition of wisdom is to come to some understanding? Probably why I still have not mastered how to play the cord of C on a guitar.

If everything changes from one reality to the next. What is the purpose of study? Defining a reality for when the next moment you could be elsewhere seems the definition of absurdity. To waste time trying to understand. Try to succeed.

From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle

'Tis My Life

A knock at the door jolts me off the sofa. I peek through the blinds then rush to the bedroom to throw on my favorite dress, hoping he’ll wait.

“I’m coming!”

I brush my hair and give myself a once-over in front of the mirror as I don my mask, careful to not snag my earrings. My phone dings. A text from him.

I dash to the door, but it’s too late. As he drives away, I feel sadness overtake me for a minute. Then I remember his purpose. Smiling, I look to the ground. My Amazon order has arrived.

From Guest Contributor Jennifer Lai

Abandoned Doctrines

It had been deserted for far too long. All it took was a little black and white and the first brave soul came venturing in. That was the spark required. Many from far and wide, of different colours, proportions and voices came flying in. The place now housed so many flying entities. Remember when it once only contained the shackled soul of a socially dictated purpose her father had nurtured with care and her mother with ignorance. They say knowledge spreads like wildfire, the unabating hunger that can infect one and all, forcing people to abandon homes, doctrines and conventions.

From Guest Contributor Ronit Mukherji

Change

On the working class tube filled with out-of-work laborers, gangs and students, Reyva hugged her backpack on her lap and gazed at the ads above her head. 

“Change your Life! Travel with Distant Horizons!” 

She ditched her unfinished schoolwork and went. 

At Distant Horizons, she lied about her age. She wasn’t afraid to make adult choices.

They strapped her to a table. Fear gripped her, but they stripped it away. Gave her a new body, a new purpose.

Within the storms of Thacyline, she rode the winds on golden wings and avoided looking towards Earth. 

She could never go back.

From Guest Contributor Tyrean Martinson

Infinity

Duncan had considered trying out an infinity mirror experiment, but taking even a box camera into a photo booth had always seemed so...uncouth.

He’d shelved the whole idea down into a little dark corner of his timidity.

Only the recent spate of high risk narcissistic selfies had managed to prise open that dungeon of shyness and resuscitate the notion.

Smartphone ideal for purpose – persuading himself that he was so much more cerebral than sneering losers – he climbed into the photo booth and popped a coin into the slot.

He timed everything perfectly and vanished up the orifice of physics.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

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.