A Glint Of Green

He smiled as he walked toward his mistress—beautiful and depraved. When he got close, he saw the green glint around her eyes and began to recognize their malicious intent. Her thick, dark hair covered much of her face, and a faint scar ran from her ear down her neck. He noticed that she was still pale. She would have no colour for a while, he thought.

"I'm so glad you're alive," he whispered as he kissed her forehead.

She snapped at him. "Thanks for bringing me back from the dead."

"Sweet Jesus!"

"Not exactly," Her mouth fell open slightly.

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

The Wooden Spoon That Left A Scar

The wooden spoon has its many uses. Grandma used it to stir the pot as the sweet savory smell of her brown stew wafted through the kitchen door to the hallway. After a hearty meal, I was always waiting for the unknown. This caused all my childhood anxiety. Grandma’s mood – now dark. I winced as the wooden spoon landed on my bare buttocks, smack after smack. I couldn’t sit down. When my teacher found out, I ended up in care. It was very unpleasant. The wooden spoon left more than a scar. I panic each time I see one.

From Guest Contributor Ibukun Sodipe

Never

She kept the Nevers in a shoebox. Most came from her mother, from childhood, but even now, she could sense her mother preparing more for Christmas. Her step-father gave her a few in the early years, but they faded to nothing as their relationship thickened to indifference.

The one from her father appeared the day after he died. Everyone thought she was too young to remember his return from the war, the nightmares, the gun shot, the funeral. Perhaps she had been, but she still kept the Never, like a scar.

She often wondered why he’d left her only one.

From Guest Contributor EM Eastick

At Least It Gets Me To Work And Back

I pass the dump truck parade on my way to work, and I pray the spider cracks in the windshield of my creaking and shaking and ground-scraping savior will remain intact until tomorrow. But this is the end for it. The heavy glass shatters on me, pouring down with a ripping gust of gravel and unpaid bills. I cover my scrunched face to protect from the impending costs. I bleed my next paycheck into the repairs. There is a new scar on my credit report, just next to my student loan debt. My last breath is spent coughing up pennies.

From Guest Contributor Stacy Gorse