Ascent

I turn aside before Everest’s summit. Hobbling to a low drift, I scoop away the snow. I have found her, still lying where she had collapsed on her fateful ascent years ago. I peel off her goggles. She stares at the cobalt sky, as if daydreaming. Her ivory skin remains unspoilt, despite the passage of time.

Laying down beside her, I unclip my mask and gasp in the thin air.

My heart pummels my ribs while I remove our gloves.

I wrap my wife’s stiff hand in mine and gaze up at the heavens, waiting to see what she sees.

From Guest Contributor Christopher Mattravers-Taylor

Chistopher has been shortlisted in the Summer 2023 and Autumn 2024 Voice.Club Competitions and longlisted in Periscope Literary’s 2023 short story competition. He was also a finalist in Globe Soup’s October and November 2024 100-word competition. His short stories have variously been described as fierce, dark, humorous and descriptive. Currently he enjoys writing short stories with a speculative edge, and now is beginning his debut novel. He lives in Bristol, UK, with an amazing wife and two wonderful children he does not deserve.

His writing is coloured by his experiences as a ME sufferer, particle physicist at CERN, property developer, core driller, disability benefits claimant, Dalmatian breeder, traveller, and more besides. One thing has remained constant in his chaotic life, however: his love of Encona Hot Sauce.

The Ascent

The door heaves open. Light floods me while darkness retreats inside me. The guards shove me outside my cell. On the stairs, my heart beats like a war drum. One step. Two. Many more. While my chains gently clink. At the summit, I look down and the people cheer. I see their mouths moving but I can’t hear a sound. All I hear is my panicked breath. As they take off my chains, the darkness escapes. I feel so light that I lose the ground under my feet. I smile, in the twenty-five meters that separate me from the abyss.

From Guest Contributor Davide Risso

Davide grew up in Italy, but his itchy feet led him to live in Ireland, Germany, the United States, and travel around the globe. Scientist by training, writer by passion, rock climber by vocation, his fiction has appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, RumbleFish Press, Literary Yard, and Cranked Anvil among others.

Our Private Summit

I listened to Camilla talking about global warming, the ocean plastic crisis and the deforestation of the Amazon rainforest. Words crowded behind her lips: I silenced them with a kiss. We stayed ten eternal seconds in that first intimate contact.

“I didn't see it coming,” she told me, when she recovered.

“I don't believe you.”

“I knew it could happen, but not so soon. I thought you were harmless.”

“The same they say about climate change.”

We spent all afternoon enjoying our private summit, evaluating the measures to be taken in the future. We started to negotiate ecological caress credits.

From Guest Contributor Marcelo Medone

Marcelo (1961, Buenos Aires, Argentina) is a fiction writer, poet, essayist and screenwriter. His works have received numerous awards and have been published in magazines and books, individually or in anthologies, in multiple languages in more than 40 countries all over the world, including the US.

He has been nominated for the 2021 Pushcart Prize.

Facebook: Marcelo Medone / Instagram: @marcelomedone

Irish Eyes

Marie stared in the mirror, her azure eyes gazed lovingly at slender curves. She shook her head wafting strands of dark hair about her waist. A grey tracksuit clung to her physique mounted above designer trainers.

She waltzed out of the house, across the field in view of the adoring workmen, and down to the muddy cliffs onto the sandy beach. Her feet clomped to the rocks, where she climbed the coral.

At the summit she perceived a clear pond. Therein, beyond the sea creatures' majesty and waves of seaweed, perfection shone back. Fixated, even when the tide came in.

From Guest Contributor Valkyrie Kerry Kelly

The Hubris Of A Goat Leads To A Tragic End

So it happened that one day Goat and Giraffe were walking down a path together when they came to a mountain. A sign said that at the summit there was a magical treasure. Both Goat and Giraffe very much wanted to find this treasure.

"Alas," cried Giraffe, "I could never climb a mountain like this. My legs are too long."

"I will find this treasure and bring it down to you." And so Goat climbed proudly to the summit.

Unfortunately, once there, Goat discovered that the treasure was at the top of a tree. He cried bitterly at the irony.