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As the helicopter approached the storm-ravaged town, hundreds of people desperately watched and waited for food and supplies. I started to make the first drop and joyful screams filled the air.

The hurricane damaged houses, leaving them engulfed in water, while downed trees blocked the roads and cars had streamed down the streets into one another. Shelters were provided, but they couldn’t accommodate everyone. They needed help.

The pilot turned in my direction. "Okay, that’s the last one. Let’s go.”

I buckled my seatbelt and said a silent prayer, thanking Him that I had a place to go home to.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Spooky Halloween

Rob dons his skeleton mask and goes out the front door to his car.

The trick or treaters fill the streets with laughter, while parents keep a watchful eye on them. Rob slowly drives through the crowds as the night sky darkens the roads and he struggles to see, not wanting to remove his mask.

Finally, he arrives.

In the back seat, Rob pulls a lifelike toy out from underneath a blanket.

His friend Tim is going to get the best spooky Halloween prank of his life.

Inside Tim has a water bucket hanging over the door waiting for Rob.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Plans For Departure

This feels like the worst place one could possibly be – insurrectionists on the front steps, an unkindness of ravens in the yard, a side door that requires a sign explaining how to open it. I’m leaving for. . . I don’t know where. Maybe somewhere bombs would only ever kill the bomb makers. You can come if you wish. I can’t promise there’ll be roads and buildings made of spider silk or that lakes will gently bubble to the dreams of sleeping fish, but light will reach us even a million years after the source of light has gone out.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie's latest poetry collection, Gunmetal Sky, is due in February from Thirty West Publishing,

The Roundabout

We are on a holiday in Greece. Jim is at the wheel and I am navigating our return to Athens from Marathon. The roads are frantic and the drivers insane. We did not arrange for a GPS in the rental car, which was a mistake.

Suddenly we find ourselves at a roundabout. Jim asks tersely, “Which exit do I take?”

“Slow down so I can read the signs,” I bark back. “Is that upside-down Greek “y” an “L” in English?”

The meaning of the expression “It’s all Greek to me” makes sense now.

Six circumnavigations later, we’re on our way.

From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius

Chivalry

“How many years do you think we’ve known each other?” Zoey asked.

“I dunno, at least since pre-school. We’re both thirty now,” I replied. We walked the cobbled roads of Newburyport. The clouds looked like lines of poetry.

“You go first this time,” Zoey said.

“I like holding the door for you though.”

“Damn it, Tyreke. Why do you always hold the door, and hold the umbrella, and make me coffee? Women can do things you know.”

“I know that.”

“Do you feel you have to protect me, or be a man, or–––“

“I do them because I love you.”

From Guest Contributor Steve Colori

Rain Day

I stare out the window watching the torrents of rain pound the leaves on my maple tree and listen to the ferocious wind hit against the siding of my house. My dog Patty barks and scratches the windowpane. I pull her next to me on the couch and rub her stomach, the only thing that soothes her. Roads are closed due to flooding and I’m stuck at home.

I had an argument with my boss yesterday about not getting enough time off. Now I’m home and bored out of my mind watching the clock.

It’s funny how things turn out.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher