Trick Play

"Ooh, a street magician. Let's watch!"

Bill kept his sigh to himself, not wanting to disappoint his date. Women always enjoyed vapid entertainments and he was used to indulging them. At least in the beginning.

"Sure."

This magician seemed to be of the most mundane sort, relying on rudimentary sleight of hand and clumsy misdirection. Bill had seen all these tricks on YouTube and delighted in calling out the techniques to the onlookers and ruining the illusion. Sheila dragged him away with an embarrassed apology.

It wasn't until the waitress brought the check that Bill realized his wallet had disappeared.

The Bad News First

Every morning there were dumpsters full of newborn babies. Every evening there was one brown shoe at the side of the road – with, some said, a foot still in it, tapping. I developed a theory that we were all just the debris of a distant explosion. By then I knew no one was coming to save me. Even the letter carrier would regularly ask for proof I was who I was before handing me my mail. As I took my driver’s license out of my wallet, little white spiders would fall from somewhere and melt like snowflakes in her hair. From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie's latest full-length poetry collection, Gun Metal Sky, is due in early 2021 from Thirty West Publishing.

A Fool For Love

Timothy stepped out into the cold evening air and briskly walked to the flower shop to buy a dozen red roses to propose to his girlfriend Isabelle. He had the ring in his inside coat pocket and his proposal branded in his memory.

Timothy pulled out his wallet. “A dozen red roses, please.”

“Big night, sir,” the cashier asked.

“I’m proposing to my girlfriend,” Timothy answered while fumbling for change.

“Good luck, to you.”

“Thanks.”

When Timothy arrived, stunned from what he saw through the living room window, he dropped the roses. Isabelle and his brother Tony were passionately kissing.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Wait

Delays. Train late.

My thoughts wander between reality and what ifs. Our last conversation remembered. Your smiling eyes as well.

Did you pack my favorite chocolates?

Scared to visit the ladies’ room in case we miss each other. Two lovers lock in an embrace beside me. A woman narrowly misses my toes pulling luggage. I rise. Look around. Someone takes my seat. I feel a tug at my side.

“Have you been waiting long?” a voice booms above all.

“Do you have money to pay for parking?" I ask. "My wallet was stolen.”

You tell me you forgot the chocolates.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, 101 Words, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, SixWordMemoirs, and Espresso Stories.