House Rules

"No!” the vacation condos manager barked, his stink-eye getting stinkier by the second. “You cannot borrow a screwdriver to repair your drone. Drones are strictly forbidden on the property!”

“Geez, alright,” I said. Man, there’s a harshness on the edge of town. Last time I book with Wazoo Properties.

“And by the way,” he said. “No more ukulele playing on the lanai or by the pool. It’s strictly…”

“Forbidden?”

He nodded yes.

“One more thing,” he said, pointing at the NO SMOKING sign.

“So, what you’re saying…”

“Yes. No drones, no tools, no frets...and you don’t get no cigarettes!”

From Guest Contributor Lee Hammerschmidt

Lee is a Visual Artist/Writer/Troubadour who lives in Oregon. He is the author of the short story collection, A Hole Of My Own. Check out his hit parade on YouTube!

Crazy?

Every second changes everything. Even in a padded room with nothing but white walls, a locked door, and himself, he knew this as truth.

All that seemed mundane and inconsequential to others was of the most dire significance to him. How many times he blinked per minute. How many seconds it took the orderly to unlock the door for dinner. When he felt his bladder swell -- it all worked towards the preservation of reality.

He sat in the corner, eyes wide. If his left foot moved, the Earth explodes. If the right, then all was well.

His left toe twitched.

From Guest Contributor Patrick Winters

Monster

I can feel it approaching, getting closer with each passing second. I never know when it will arrive, but can sense whenever it’s near. I can hear the monster making its move. I run into the bedroom, and slam the door shut. Just in time to hear the front door creak. Footsteps creep close, attempting to be silent. Covering my eyes tight, I hope the monster will leave me be. The door pushes ajar, the overwhelming smell of the monster invading my senses.

The monster says, “Hello.”

I take a deep breath and uncover my eyes to face my mother-in-law.

From Guest Contributor Eliza Salisbury