Accident

The cars came to a halt, and sirens blared. I wondered how bad the accident was. I couldn’t see anything other than flashing red and white lights and I hoped no one was killed. I called my wife, but the connection was bad. I managed to tell her I’d be late due to traffic.

The sun shifted and it was blinding so I pulled my visor down.

After an hour the traffic let up. Ambulances and stretchers were on the scene of the accident.

I said a silent prayer and drove on, anxious to get home and kiss my wife.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Dead Meat

The carcass on the shoulder buzzed with flies and other insects feeding on the rotting flesh. The process of decay started the moment the vehicle, probably an SUV or pickup truck by the amount of damage, rammed into it.

Larger critters had already been by, but there was enough intermittent traffic during the day that the real feast would wait until dark.

In a way, we're always rotting, from the moment we're born. It's thanks to the magic of cellular technology we're able to keep regenerating through the decades, sloughing off the dead skin and useless morality as we go.

The Celebration

Where was he?

Anxious guests chattered in anticipation of what would happen next. The priest glanced at the row of individuals immediately before him. Then, at his watch.

Time passed on. The front door opened. A man rushed in.

No one turned to greet him. No talking caught his ears.

Who would’ve believed his story of being caught up in traffic when he was golfing with friends and lost track of time?

He fumbled in his dress jacket pocket, finding the wedding ring lodged in its creases.

Despite his absence as ‘best man’, he hoped his brother’s wedding went well.From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She resides in Edmonton, Canada.

Dangerous Dan

Dan is a famous television personality. He tells everyone via Twitter, television, and sky writing that he is a rich and brilliant man. His public statements have attracted a following of those who hate the same people that he does. Recently he advised people to drive 100mph in dense traffic without seatbelts, despite transportation experts saying it would lead to deaths to both drivers and the innocent. Many thousands died following his advice. Dan laughed it off, until he himself was injured while driving at 100mph. Several others were injured in his crash. What do you think of Dan now?

From Guest Contributor Doug Hawley

Let's Stay Focused On The Good News

HUBRIS CONTEST:

Gerald raced home, test in hand, too excited to look both ways as he crossed intersections. There was never any traffic anyway, and this news was too good to wait. He only paused at one point to pick up the books that had scattered on the sidewalk behind him because he'd forgotten to zip closed his backpack.

He sprinted up his driveway and burst through the front door.

"I am the GOAT!!!" He threw the paper towards his mother, who looked up in bewilderment.

"A B+ on your English exam. I'm proud of you. Now what about your math quiz?"

From Guest Contributor Breanne Nyhoff

In That Moment

Chuck entered the car in a hurry and drove off, tires screeching. His wife, Hallie, was in surgery and he promised to be there when she awakened. He sipped his Starbucks coffee and wondered when the traffic would let up, cursing and punching the steering wheel.

After an hour, the cars started moving and Chuck sped up determined to make it on time, when his cell rang. He turned and grabbed the phone. In that one moment his eyes were off the road, he swerved and crashed into a guardrail.

Chuck would be at the hospital, but not for Hallie.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Change

“Watta you gonna do?”

“I don’t know.” It was getting dark.

“You could run away.”

“Where would I go?”

“California?”

“That far?”

“Or Mexico.”

“I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Then just give it back.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I already spent it on candy.”

His friend thought about that. “Can I have some?”

“I ate it all.”

After watching the traffic at the intersection for a while, the boy’s friend got up. “I can’t go to California,” he said apologetically.

“Why not?”

“I’m not allowed to cross the street.”

“Yeah,” the little boy still sitting on the curb admitted, “me neither.”

From Guest Contributor Jean Blasiar

Last Night

Still tired, I wake in the darkness. In the distance, I hear a train and the rumble of traffic. I strain for the sound of your soft breathing next to me. An aeroplane passes overhead, now I hear the humming of the refrigerator. Eyes closed, I can feel the heat of you an arm’s length away; just an arm's length. I reach out to touch you; I hear the angry hiss. Still not forgiven. My heart turns to stone when I glimpse your fury through clenched fingers. Everything turns to stone, hard stone. Hard words echo in the night air.

From Guest Contributor David Rae

Rose Petal

It took Jim more than a half hour to arrive at his wife Kate’s grave. The flowers he brought were withered from the heat and drops of sweat dripped down the nape of his neck.

“Hi, Sweetie. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. Traffic was unbearable. I brought you your favorite, yellow roses, but they are ruined from the heat. I’m sorry, I can’t seem to get anything right these days.”

Jim placed the roses against the gravestone, knelt, and quietly prayed.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

When Jim left, a rose petal dropped to the ground.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Unexpected Drive Home

The rain pelted against the windshield and traffic was at a standstill. Impatient drivers honked their horns to no avail and I tuned them out with my radio. Finally, the traffic began to move, but the rain didn’t let up. Every car was crawling. My stomach gurgled from hunger and my throat was parched. It had been two hours.

As I reached the drawbridge crossing there was an ambulance. Two cars collided head-on and a body laid on the ground covered with a black tarpaulin.

I shut off the radio and drove the rest of the ride home in silence.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher