Bad Parenting

Brandon is so excited he can barely speak. "So Pain Cake climbs onto the top rope when the ref isn't looking and drops onto Big Beef with his patented Jagged Edge."

"Pain Cake?"

"Yeah. He flattens you like a pancake, and it's extremely painful."

"I see."

"Then Captain Atomic runs out of the locker rooms with a German Shepherd and chases everyone out of the ring. And guess what happens next..."

"Mm-hm."

"Mom, you aren't listening!"

"I'm listening. I'm just driving. Go on."

"This is literally the greatest thing that's happened in my entire life and you don't even care."

Belly/Belie

I remember the push of the needle through my flesh, a burst of pain, the reddened swelling, and then the bruise, spreading like a distorted coneflower from my stomach.

“Sexy,” he mutters later. He pushes my sweater higher up around my breasts, leaning in to kiss the tender flesh around the belly ring. I look up at the ceiling tiles. I close my eyes, and I imagine this ring is a portal. I crawl through the small metal circle, into the deep hull of this ship--a stowaway, hidden from view. I smile. It works. He doesn’t even notice I’m gone.

From Guest Contributor Helen Raica-Klotz

Final Instructions

The fight between Lefty Louie and Bonecrusher Rocco was only minutes away. Bonecrusher was an awesome specimen – a huge head, bull neck, and massive chest and biceps.

In Louie's corner, Al, his manager, had a few last words.

“The referee’s going to give you both instructions in the middle of the ring.”

Why a square surface was called a ring Louie didn't understand.

“He's going to tell you to go to a neutral corner when someone's down. Break when he tells you to. Then he'll say let the better man win.”

“What?”

“I know, Louie. Just forget that last part.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

His Majesty

The king sits on his throne with a large and excruciating chest wound. The room is filled with blood and lifeless bodies, his men.

The beautifully decorated hall is covered in blood and the delicately prepared meat and fruit sit untouched never to be eaten.

The king hasn’t much time. He can’t feel his legs and his body is cold. He reaches for his ring and struggles with his weak fingers to remove it. As he releases it, he slumps over and the ring drops to the ground, the noise echoing in the quiet.

His Majesty will soon be replaced.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Blue Lights

“In the basement?” I throw my face at Sunny. Gosh. I hate him sometimes. “What could you possibly want to show me...in the basement?”

The bulb above us illuminates his smile. “Just open it, Sophie.”

I push the door, and I gasp.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.

“Yes. Just like you.”

“Where did you get this Sunny? It must have cost a lifetime.”

“You’re worth a million lifetimes, Sophie.”

Tears anoint my cheeks.

“One more thing.” Sunny flicks off the lights. The white dress glows an azure sheen.

He kneels. “Will you marry me?” A ring sparkles in my face.

From Guest Contributor Tom Okafor

The Missed Date

I first saw you in the waiting room. I had an appointment with the oncologist. I was waiting. You waited too, month after month, for the trial results. You often came alone. You often sat alone in a corner, fiddling with the ring finger. The absence of a ring created a note of discord. It took me six months to gather courage to ask your name, your hobbies, your favourite colour, flower, song, season. For a date finally. You said yes. I wore blue and ordered one hundred and one tulips for the day. The day I attended your funeral.

From Guest Contributor Marzia Rahman

Marzia is a Bangladeshi fiction writer and translator. Her writings have appeared in several print and online journals. Her novella-in-flash If Dreams had wings and Houses were built on clouds was longlisted in the Bath Novella in Flash Award Competition in 2022. She is currently working on a novella.

The Greatest Show

We climbed down from our platforms and out of the ring, inhaling deeply of sawdust and popcorn, sweat and dung. We turned out the lights and broke down the tents, ropes biting into our palms. We watered the elephants and fed the lions; we waved at stragglers and kissed our new lovers goodbye. One last campfire, one last harmonica bray, one last cloud of dust kicked up by our dancing feet. One last paycheck pressed into our hands. No train tomorrow. No makeup, no spangled costumes. We’ll tip our heads back, way back, and spread our arms for the net.

From Guest Contributor Tara Campbell

Tara is a writer, teacher, Kimbilio Fellow, and fiction editor at Barrelhouse. Previous publication credits include SmokeLong Quarterly, Masters Review, Jellyfish Review, Booth, and Strange Horizons. She's the author of a novel, TreeVolution, and three collections: Circe's Bicycle, Midnight at the Organporium, and Political AF: A Rage Collection.

Underground

Gwen spotted us together in the subway. We were standing talking, and she walked up to us. She looked at me awkwardly fidgeting with her ring, while I stammered an apology. An apology for what; we just met by accident. Nothing happened, I promise.

“You two sure look like a cute couple,” she said, her voice full of self-pity.

Why won’t she listen?

“Busted,” you laughed; big joke.

“It’s not like that, we’re not back together,” I said, not after what you put me through last time.

No one believed me, not even myself; but it’s still not my fault.

From Guest Contributor David Rae

A Fool For Love

Timothy stepped out into the cold evening air and briskly walked to the flower shop to buy a dozen red roses to propose to his girlfriend Isabelle. He had the ring in his inside coat pocket and his proposal branded in his memory.

Timothy pulled out his wallet. “A dozen red roses, please.”

“Big night, sir,” the cashier asked.

“I’m proposing to my girlfriend,” Timothy answered while fumbling for change.

“Good luck, to you.”

“Thanks.”

When Timothy arrived, stunned from what he saw through the living room window, he dropped the roses. Isabelle and his brother Tony were passionately kissing.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Ah, Love

"I need a man that can put a ring on my finger."

"I'll get you one as soon as possible, baby!"

"I deserve someone better."

"I can be better. I swear I can!"

"I need someone that will always be there for me."

"And I can do that! I'll be here, there, anywhere! Just name it!"

"I want a guy that will actually listen to me."

"I'm listening, sweetie. My ears are all yours."

"Somebody that loves me."

"I do!"

"I need a man that is guaranteed to please me in bed."

" . . . I don't think this is going to work."

From Guest Contributor Patrick Winters