Working Theory

He has a fear of hot Danish. When the bakery shop opens its accusing awning in the morning, he retreats to avoid notice by the shop’s pastries. Open-air breakfast shops infuriate him. In his infrequent sleep, he is haunted by the idea of smothering icing, steam welling into a wall of baker’s avenging anger. The syrup run-off loitering in the pan. He wakes with his cheeks and tongue burning, the rift of his nose aflame, a gooey lump of heat assaulting his eyes from the backside. He tells himself: they will cool. When they do, he will conquer them all.

From Guest Contributor Ken Poyner

Mel Finishes the Week

His week at the coin-operated laundromat finally over, Mel wished for nothing more, after a meal of mac & cheese, than a night of uninterrupted sleep.

So, now in REM sleep, he was able to dream, to put his Uncle's laundromat behind him.

To recover.

But what the...

It was his Uncle Leo, bursting into Mel's dream of sleeping on laundry. There’s something pleasant about lying on towels and underwear at your work.

“I don't pay you to sleep. Take this mop, Mel.”

All that night he spent mopping.

Mopping and mopping linoleum until the morning, when he awoke exhausted.

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Runnin’ On Adrenaline

I’m amazed at how much energy I can muster after that dreaded phone call. It doesn’t matter it’s 3:00 AM. I can sacrifice sleep. I’m dressed in a flash and on the road racing to the hospital, running through hallways, arriving before your final breath, “I’m here Dad, I love you.”

You whisper, “Always remember Helen, you’re my queen of queens.”

And after arranging your funeral, packing your clothes, arguing with my siblings about who gets what, I drag myself home, plop down on the bed thinking I’ll pass out from exhaustion, instead, I think of you and tears erupt.

From Guest Contributor Charles Gray

Horrors Of War

Innocent civilians taken hostage. Families plead for their loved ones' safe return, helpless and fearing the worst outcome. All they can do is weep and wait.

Pictures of children shown on the news, unaware of the outside world, scared, frightened, and huddled together unable to sleep, wanting their parents to save them and not knowing why they’re separated.

Countries gather to create foundations to help those in need. How long will it last?

Shootings and chaos surround streets, and gunfire echoes in the air. People bellow and search for safety, unable to find it.

These are the horrors of war.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Sentinels

With the heavens above, eyes perceive blackness below. The silhouettes of lonesome silos dotting a barren landscape gives way to perceptions of ancient obsidian obelisks, sentinels erected by the offspring of some long-forgotten civilization, sating deities of seasons past.

Against a moonless night, one can appreciate the unencumbered band of the Milky Way, glorious gold and white light from hundreds of thousands of stars, blues, oranges and reds, sparkling beacons of potentialities adorning the night sky.

I repose beneath a blanket of starlight, and the encircling melody of coywolves lulls me to sleep as I long for dreams of you.

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

Giant Oaks

I sighed as my breathing slowed. The sun rose over my head, and I felt the power inside me waking, like the tree in the woods that had grown into giant oaks, covering the forest floor in the summer. I would sit in the shade of those trees until nightfall, waiting for the stars, reaching for the promise of sleep. The light in the sky became a distant memory, and I could almost feel the joy that the moon brought to those born in the middle of winter or during those spring showers that brought new life to the earth.

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

War

There’s not an easy way to explain war on the battlefield. Only the soldiers who lived it can do so. It’s been years and I remember it as yesterday. The horrifying sound of gun fire and large tanks coming straight for us still terrify me, and I relive it each night in my sleep.

The therapist says it’s natural when experiencing traumatic events. However, he didn’t live through it and hear the screams of the dying men.

Sacrificing my life to save a fellow soldier is the best thing I ever did.

Even at the cost of my left leg.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Savior

Mary held baby Jesus in her arms, coddling him from danger as Joseph watched. He was tiny and quiet, sleeping peacefully. Joseph touched Mary’s shoulder gently and she smiled. The animals surrounded them and watched as the family sat contentedly in joyful wonderment staring at the small gift. Mary, exhausted, stayed awake afraid to leave her newborn son out of her sight, but Joseph took him from her arms, and she laid back and fell into a deep sleep.

Joseph gazed at his son in awe, the miracle God granted them.

The Savior, Christ, who would sacrifice himself for others.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Caught

The car is in park, with the air-conditioner cranked. I finish my ice-cold soda, and would like another, but I’m not leaving this spot. It’s broad daylight and people are walking to work or taking their kids to school. I can’t wait until this is over so I can go home and get some much-needed sleep. A cold beer and cool shower will do nicely too.

She exits the apartment wrapped in his arms passionately kissing. I snap the photos with my cell phone and text the pictures to her husband. I put the car in drive.

My payment awaits.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Cryoromance

"I'm still burning for Aliona!" Evan cried. "Not for long," said the Lords before they locked two lovers together inside the intergalactic cryo chamber.

Punishment for love between people, in the world overpopulated with hungry people, was inescapable. Stuck in the moment of desire and hunger they were banished far from Earth, only to wander through the darkness of time and space, without enough food, to the unknown destination.

Out there, Evan was just a piece of frozen meat. Aliona was like a mantis in human form.

The last we heard, Evan was eaten alive during his deep hibernation sleep.

From Guest Contributor Ivan Ristic

Ivan is a Serbian short story writer, poet and composer of ambient music.