Hello Goodbye

Life is all about the timing.

I fell in love over the course of a several hours last Saturday. I'd only intended to stay out a couple hours, as I was still processing my recent breakup. But then I met Alex. We ended up dancing and talking until dawn, bouncing from one club to the next around the city, and I decided that here, finally, was the love of my life.

It turns out he was pulling one last all-nighter before leaving for a new posting in Olive Branch, Mississippi.

Just as I was saying hello, he was saying goodbye.

The Park

Since the death of my father, I made it a habit to walk in his favorite park every Saturday, something we always did together. Sometimes we had a catch, until one day his hand slipped, and the ball landed in the lake with a splash, and people chortled and pointed. That’s when I knew his Parkinson’s was getting worse. Soon after, he was unable to do the things he loved, gardening being one of his fondest.

I stood by the lake and listened to the children playing when I saw something float by.

It was the ball from our catch.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Sunday Morning

He remembers hating the formal dress of Sunday morning. Khakis and a button-down shirt felt so constrictive, especially compared to his Saturday uniform: shorts and a t-shirt. Even worse, no one ever gave him a satisfactory answer as to why they must dress so formally, when the Bible made very clear that God actually prefers the poor and the ragged over the richly attired.

It's strange to miss something you don't believe in, but there was a comfort in not having to make a decision.

Now every Sunday morning he spends much longer than he should selecting what to wear.

Big Money

Howard entered the school’s front office Monday morning following his Saturday wedding. The head secretary smiled at him and cooed coquettishly, “Ooh, Mr. Morgan, how’s married life?” The other secretaries smirked, eager to hear his reply.

The question amused Howard. He didn’t know what to say so he pumped his fist in the air three times and said, “It’s fantastic. I’ve doubled my income. Life is good!”

“Oh! Oh!” the head secretary shrieked, hands flying to her throat. “You’re just the most horrible man.”

Grinning madly, Howard walked out of the office thinking, What a great start to the day.

From Guest Contributor Robert P. Bishop

Saturday Jog

Jogging through the park, I keep the pace feeling energetic and free. The breeze against my cheeks feels refreshing and the chirping birds fill the air with song.

It’s crowded for a Saturday morning and parents are up early with their children. I pass two women pushing their young children on the swings as the boys soar high and chortle. Other joggers pass and smile contently.

I finish my lap and take a seat on the bench gulping water.

After breakfast and a shower, I will go about my regular weekend visiting my dad in the nursing home memory unit.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Centurion Saturday

He’s feeling less than complete this morning. Some parts have vanished; most just haven’t woken up yet; a couple are only pretending to be there. But for the most part, for one inexplicable reason or another, he’s feeling incomplete.

Maybe it’s just because it’s Saturday morning. And early. Very early. Too early for even a gigantic apple fritter to convince him that it’s really there and that he’s actually eating it. Too early altogether for small-talk local television chat fests, and certainly way too early for the National or World News Countdown-To-Oblivion Update.

All he needs is seven magic words.

From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette

Ron.'s debut chapbook, Fallen Away (Finishing Line Press) is now available at all standard outlets. Many of his published works can be found at EGGS OVER TOKYO.

Status Update

Tina hated the outdoors. But there she was, Saturday morning­—hiking with mom.

“You’re on the phone too much. You need to experience the outdoors,” her mother said.

Just then, Tina’s friend texted: Don’t forget to update your status, nature girl. LOL.

Pouting, Tina logged onto Twitter and tweeted: ‘Urban girl meets nature.’

Instantly, 5 likes. Tina smiled.

“Mom, where’s the bathroom?”

“Privy is over there.”

Inside, Tina looked around, tweeting: ‘First time in a Porta Potty.’ 7 likes. She smiled again.

‘So nasty, so gross—'

Plop.

Tina paused momentarily. Then carefully navigated her finger into the fetid blue liquid.

Tweet.

From Guest Contributor Jennifer Lai