Old Friend

I remember a much younger you, so energetic, so easily scared, so cheaply won over by a treat.

I remember you running in open fields until you realize how far away you are, then running just as fast back to me.

I remember the vet telling me you had cancer, and the impending darkness I endured for two years. When he admitted his mistake I wanted to be mad but couldn’t be. Those years were a gift.

I cherish all the hours that remain to us. I will carry you as far as you are willing and eager to go.

Not Roadrunner

A few years ago, editor and I visited Malheur Refuge in remote Southeast Oregon. This was before the infamous “occupation” by a fringe group. We got a visual treat starring a coyote and a pheasant. The coyote would approach the pheasant and the pheasant would fly fifty feet out of range. The coyote would approach again; the pheasant would fly off again. Neither party seemed particularly excited. It seemed they may have played this game regularly. We watched for a few minutes, but we had other things to do, and it appeared that this game could go on for hours.

From Guest Contributor Doug Hawley

On The Sweet Path

Ice cream? Al declined. It hurt his teeth.

“Good of him to do so,” acknowledged his school’s principal.

There were other reports of the afternoon sightings. About the SUV parked in front of their school. The dark sunglasses leaning out on a balding head. Words offering a sweet treat.

It happened two days in a row. Possibly three. No one paid close attention until bits of news dribbled out, spreading across the community.

Plans were drawn to nab the culprit.

He must’ve known for no longer was he seen.

Another school needed to heed to the call for ice cream.From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction regardless of the season. Although she prefers spring.

Trick Or Treat

Drew wanted to play a trick on his young teenage neighbors. He dressed in an elaborate zombie outfit, blood dripping from his mouth, face and hands painted white. He’d wait for the boys and then make his move. It would be nice payback for toilet papering his car last year.

He peered out the window and there they were.

Drew limped down the block screaming. At first, they laughed and threw leaves at him, but then their eyes widened.

“Hey, it’s just me, Drew,” he said and removed the phony mask.

He turned and behind him stood an identical zombie.

From Guest Contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher

Alice Falls For A Killer

She surmises blood stains under everything. His skin is cracked like hard dirt in a barren winter. "You could use baby oil," she says. Later, they share a half-gallon of chocolate chip ice cream, her treat. They always meet by the railroad tracks because of his love of trains and exit signs. He speaks in fragments, and she imagines his past is dammed up, full of unexplained absences. She wants to show him her breasts under the moonlight. She wants to hear him whistle so shrilly it will puncture the dark. Then, the darkness will erase the both of them.

From Guest Contributor Kyle Hemmings