Breaking The Rules

I before E except after C, unless I’m seeing too much ceiling from under my eiderdown. I turn my eyes in disbelief to my neighbor Keith, who at this moment is receiving eight heifers of various heights and weight. Having been neither seized in some heist nor had any profits forfeited, they are feisty beasts. A brawn of weightlifters, beings made of veiled skeins of protein, caffeine and bulging veins, takes them away, no receipts involved. Afterward, the men reign over steins of beer at their leisure. Weird that it should be so hard to relieve the stress of thievery.

From Guest Contributor Cheryl Snell

Love You Till The End

NATURE SUBMISSION:

I’d never seen a more glorious sunset, even after a tornado. Half the sky was a golden yellow and the clouds above the sun were skeins of vermilion fire. Even the orange flames on the horizon dulled in comparison. Dust in the air; much of it probably radioactive.

We had come out of the root cellar, its door fortunately hidden by an overgrown raspberry patch, where we’d hidden from marauding mobs that had fled the cities, and hidden again when the pursuing troops began shelling. Our house and outbuildings were charred skeletons, the animals gone. We were still holding hands.

From Guest Contributor F. J. Bergmann