What A Way To Go

I died in the most absurd manner possible.

I was training to beat the world record for the most Skittles in your mouth at one time. This is harder than you might think, because you've to get them in and out fast enough they don't start melding together into one giant rainbow skittle.

So I was training with my team and I'd just beaten my personal best when I started to choke. Everyone thought I was celebrating. By the time they realized I'd turned blue and fallen unconscious, it was too late.

By the way, the world record is 381.

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.

The First In A Long History Of Injustices

Sharon was proud of all the drugs she'd done. Enough drugs to supply a hospital or fund a revolution in Eastern Europe. Enough drugs that her memories of the last seven years had melted together like the rainbow of candle wax she'd made for her fifth grade science fair.

Sharon still thought of herself as the hero in her fucked-up drama of a life. At the meetings she occasionally attended, they preached shedding your ego. They preached a lot of nonsense.

Sharon did not win that science fair, an injustice she still clings to even in her most lucid moments.

A Postcard To The Afterlife

Hi Dad, it’s me again. Still here on Earth. Still wishing to be where you are, engulfed in the brilliant light of peace and tranquility, behind gates guarded by ancestors from times never known to us. Still waiting for a sign, a rainbow, a white dove, anything that tells me things are better out there in the universe than they are here, right now. Still missing the opportunities that passed us by when we thought there were an infinite number of opportunities left. Still whispering unheard, unanswered prayers into the night sky. Still hoping the moonlight carries them to you.

From Guest Contributor Rhiannon DeCambra

Under The Rainbow

For an instant, just before noticing the new bank of threatening clouds conspiring on the darkened horizon, it seemed like everyone knew how to think, knew what to think; everyone knew how to feel. No one could take their eyes off the rainbow until it faded—as all rainbows always do—and the first few burning drops of the new and far more furious downpour, promising only flood, destruction, and despair appeared.

By the time the storm reached its new-found fury, everyone had given up seeking shelter. No one had any recollection whatsoever of anything even vaguely resembling a rainbow

From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette

Ron. Lavalette’s many published works, including his debut chapbook, Fallen Away, can be found HERE.

Keeping It Together

Option 1: The books I’ve read on the left hand side, those I haven’t on the right hand side.

Option 2: From top to bottom arranged by colour, following the colour sequence of the rainbow.

First, the daily routine: checking the updates, every day at the same time, hoping they announce that during the past 24 hours there were no fatalities to regret, no one was admitted to hospital and all those that have been – even those in Intensive Care – were allowed to leave. But that didn’t happen today. Today, I try keeping it together by choosing between two options.

From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys

Hervé SUYS (°1968 – Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and hasn’t stopped since.

Glimmer

The rain is pounding on the window and I see water seeping through the sill. I put towels to block it, but to no avail, and the dogs are barking uncontrollably, pacing back and forth at the clap of thunder and lightning. With nothing else to do, I sit and wait for it to pass. A summer storm doesn’t usually last long.

“Three o’clock, I must’ve fallen asleep.” The dogs are beside me on the couch plopped down with their tails wagging.

I look out the window and see abundant sunshine. In the distance a glimmer of a rainbow appears.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Swimmer

Last summer it was warm with sun drips. The rain would pour and pour, filling my yard to a pond. When one morning I had a visitor inside this blue and ceramic bird feeder a little creature peeking his head out with excitement. I peeked in not knowing what to expect. It was a tree frog with little suction cups on his feet, so cool. He leaped out and climbed onto the tree so fast looking for something. I guess he was trying to find a huge raindrop to drink from. He was snatching magic, a raindrop with a rainbow.

From Guest Contributor JoyAnne O'Donnell

Caught At The Bottom

From his vantage point, Josh could see their faces, those who weren’t masked anyway. The zealotry was apparent on both sides.

The blows, unintentional at this point, kept coming. Boots rammed into his hip. Someone stepped on his right hand, the one that had been holding the rainbow sign, and he felt the bones snap. He stopped struggling as everything went numb.

All Josh discerned now were their eyes. He realized they saw nothing outside of their own preconceived notions. They looked at the men and woman across from them with hatred.

And these were the people he agreed with.

The End Of The Rainbow

After years of chasing storms all around the world, Will finally found his way to the end of a rainbow.

The scene was less idyllic than he'd imagined. The area around the rainbow was dark and wet and definitely not sanitary. With all the discarded junk and used medical supplies, it looked rather like a trash dump.

There was a leprechaun, though he seemed drunk and could not even manage to stand. Will asked where his gold was buried.

"You think I'd hide my gold here, at the shit end of the rainbow?" He hiccuped and fell asleep. Will cried.