Go Slow

With her seat tilted back, she could only see the tree tops as they sped past. She squeezed his hand tightly, letting him know without words that she loved him, but also she hated it when he drove too fast. They could communicate a lot without words.

He eased off the pedal.

The car felt heavy, stuffed to the fenders with every possession she had in the world. Remembering her bedroom, empty except for the naked bed frame and the pink and yellow wallpaper she picked out when she was eleven, caused her to choke up.

'Go slower,' she said.

Broke

Bills. They stacked up like a child's art project on the kitchentable, each stamped red with the word "overdue." The house wascrumbling down, the wallpaper peeling off every panel. The wallstrembled as the couple screamed at each other. Blame flew likehousehold objects; lamps, chairs, and plates.

They stormed off in a huff to the same bedroom, facing away from eachother, their faces too hot and hearts beating too hard to sleep.

So they stayed awake, until the sunlight streaked in through thebroken blinds and the couple was ready to start the routine overagain.

From Guest Contributor Artie Kuyper

A Genius Remains Unrecognized

HUBRIS CONTEST:

John shouted into his megaphone, sending the entire set scrambling. He was in command. He was a god, and "Flesh Would Melt" was his creation, his masterpiece finally springing to life.

Even amidst the commotion, there was a still part of John's mind that was not occupied by the calculating of f-stops or picking out of wallpaper patterns. He thought of the first time he'd seen Hamlet performed, wondering at the rapturous applause, and thinking to himself that if he had been in charge, he would have done better.

Almost exactly one year later, John's film premieres to universal vilification.

From Guest Contributor Eduardo Felin

Sweet Lullaby

Brianne gently swung the bassinet humming a lullaby. It had been in her family for years and it was her turn to place a baby in it.

She decorated the nursery with teddy bears and yellow duckling wallpaper. She spent the majority of her time in the baby’s room holding the many tiny onesies her family gave her and reading the children’s books for the baby’s library.

“Honey, I’m home,” said her husband Greg as he entered the room with a bouquet of freshly scented red roses.

Brianne began to weep.

It was time to tell him about the miscarriage.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

No More Grant Wood

Francis stared gawping at the bleak picture of a white house on a twilight prairie for at least a couple of minutes before breathing. Hattie linked arms with him and pressed close.

“Well, what do you think?”

Francis sighed a wordless soliloquy.

“Isn’t it wonderful? Look at the shading, the perspective, the detail.”

“I just finished that wallpapering.”

“Soot from the aromatic candles and sewing chalk.”

Francis frowned.

“All dangerous hobby stuff is locked away. Candles...top shelf.”

Francis confirmed the press was locked and tight against the wall before addressing his two-year old son.

“Grant, you’re one creepy-ass kid.”

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid