After Destruction

The prophet mutter his pronouncements to a jaded congregation that paid no attention. They didn't need to hear the truth from the mouth of a crazed zealot to understand this time was different. The world really was coming to an end. At least all the parts that mattered.

War. Drought. Pestilence. Disease.

Everything promised had finally arrived, and the people, rather than tending to their own affairs, were content to rage and destroy and ensure that everyone would meet the same fate. Leave nothing behind.

The prophet continued to mumble for anyone who might be listening.

"After destruction comes rebirth."

Run Run Run

Last one home is a rotten egg.

Run.

Coach says if I make top two in the state I'll get a scholarship offer from every school in the country.

Run.

We saw red and blue lights flashing from the front yard at Kristi Fields' graduation party.

Run.

Becca asked if we were boyfriend and girlfriend now that we'd done it.

Run.

Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?

Run.

A knock on the door. Blood all over the floor, all over my hands, all over the knife. No one will believe the truth.

Run. Run. Run.

Truth

The doors open and the bridal party makes their entrance, the music resonating throughout the church. The women shine in their baby blue gowns and the bride, Belle, arm in arm with her dad, shines. Her white gown with sequined embroidery catches the eyes of the onlookers, as her father smiles and leads his daughter to the groom. My stomach churns. I can’t let this wedding happen knowing the truth.

Once the priest gives his wedding sermon the vows begin. When he asks if anyone objects, I hastily stand.

The room, aghast over the disruption, waits for me to respond.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Truth

When I awoke in the hospital, I knew the truth. The agonizing pain in my back, the nurses rushing me to the operating room, with the walls spinning around me. The doctor's “everything will be okay, Katie.” But it isn’t.

I’m bleary eyed from the sedative, but I feel a hand in mine, my husband’s. I’m too weary and can’t speak, so I give his hand a squeeze, and he gently squeezes mine back. He speaks of his love for me and how he’ll never leave. Then the doctor comes in and he lets go.

“Will my wife walk again?”

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Open Arms?

When I took the online family DNA test for fun, I didn’t expect to find out I have a sister. After I read the results, I confronted my mom, and she admitted the truth that she gave birth to a daughter before she met and married my dad. My heart ached knowing all these years I could’ve had a sister and didn’t know.

I’m driving on the parkway, the radio blaring. In fifteen minutes, I’ll be at Cassie’s house. The big sister I didn’t grow up with and meeting for the first time.

Will she welcome me with open arms?

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Tank Man

No one knows where he came from. He simply appeared on the streets from nowhere.

He stood defiantly, one man against a nation, a beacon of hope, a harbinger of doom.

He became a symbol around the world. To many, he was an emblem of brave resistance. To some, he was a token of what one person can accomplish against all odds.

Nothing is known about who he is or what made him believe one man was able to stop an army.

No one knows what happened to him afterwards. But the truth is everyone knows what happened to him.

Policy Of Truth

At age 16, Brenda promised she would only tell the truth. She had always detested lies, even little white ones, and felt sick when forced to feign compliments. Even worse, when she found out she'd been lied to after the fact, she especially hated being told it was out of a desire to save her feelings. Sounded more like an excuse to avoid a hard conversation.

Brenda found honesty liberating in many ways, including the shedding of former friendships. But the best part had to be how much she enjoyed justifying her innate cruelty by her commitment to total veracity.

Learning To Lose

As a child, Pedro was taught that winning was all that mattered. Yet at the same time, his teachers insisted that when he lost, he must do so with dignity. This was a contradiction.

If winning was all important, his response to defeat was at best meaningless. In truth, conciliation towards failure must be evidence of his disregard for the first lesson.

As an adult, Pedro finally understands. After vanquishing his enemies in battle, hand-to-hand combat, or preemptive surrender, he finds it distasteful when opponents act sullenly towards their new master. Dignity is another word for capitulation to your betters.

Death Is The Last Frontier In The Simulator

To be stuck in a simulator of the gateway project is weird, to say the least. How do I know I am not alive? I watch as people die and come back to life. Meaning? Bob Barker. I assure you he died several times. MeatLoaf in 2014 wrecked his car, killing him only for him to die again elsewhere. Maybe death is not what one would expect.

Maybe consciousness continues until it meets an ending in some sort of programmed book outcome. The book of Enoch might be truth. We all live until our own personalized ending of hell fire.

From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle

Live A Little Before You Are Eaten

Hybrid kids of Earth? Munching on mermaids? Half-trout, half-human tumors to turbocharge fish growth? A few escape, and voilà, mermaids? Dining on Manitours? Half-cow, half-human tumors? Some flee, transforming Earth into fairyland? How 'bout orcs? Half-pig, half-human tumors? Orcs could settle scores when they flee. The weirdest? Chickenman. End days echo Noah's. Bon appétit! The sad truth of mankind? Will humanity never learn? Eating yourself to death is humanity into Soylent Green all over again? Does humanity never listen and learn change your way before you become the meal of the day. For in the end. Live before being eaten.

From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle