Forks In The Road

Darcy and I stare at Walter through shatterproof glass at the prison during visiting hours.

Walter’s handcuffed knuckles, pressing against his temples, are white. “Toasting forks?! Those thirty-inch-long skewers you use for toasting marshmallows?”

I nod. “I put them out with the salad at dinner.”

“How could you?” he sputters.

Darcy grimaces. “Sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to get expelled for jabbing people.”

“It’s not your fault, Darce,” Walter says. “Mom should’ve known better than to give you the exact weapons I used for the trail of destruction that landed me here.”

I sigh. “I was trying to normalize them.”

From Guest Contributor Susmita Ramani

Special Sauce

Maybe advertising was the wrong field for Bob. His boss, Ralph, passed him up for the accounts he wanted, like “Granola Gambit” and “Veg It Up,” giving those to his arch-nemesis, Ted. Bob kept getting accounts like “Killer Shrimp” and “Pork for Your Fork.” (Bob was a known vegan; passive aggressive much, Ralph?) Bob would’ve left ages ago had it not been for his secret love for his coworker, Darlene. He couldn’t shake the vision he’d had of her one day when he’d come upon her eating barbecued ribs like a wild animal. She’d been covered in sauce, but adorable.

From Guest Contributor Susmita Ramani

Susmita lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and two children. She’s a lifelong writer whose work has appeared in The Daily Drunk, Nymeria Publishing (winner of March 2021 poetry contest), 50 Word Stories, and Vine Leaves Press (50 Give or Take), and will appear in upcoming issues of Short Fiction Break and Secret Attic.