Runaround

For his eighteenth birthday, Lathan got magical boots from Grandpa, so nobody could catch him up.

When cyclopes attacked the village, Lathan ran into a leafless forest, where witches boiled bones in cauldrons; so he fled to the Glass Mountain, opaque crystals everywhere, and their shimmering princess offered engagement; flushed in embarrassment, Lathan roved to a roadside tavern, mocked by goblins, and a bounty placed on his head. He circled around the empire for a month but eventually ended up at home.

As cyclopes growled, Lathan finally faced his worries, selling the boots for a rusty sword at the blacksmith.

From Guest Contributor Bettina Laszlo

Bettina writes fiction to convey what is beyond expression. Her work has appeared in NUNUM, Dragonfly educational programme, and is forthcoming at 101 Words. She lives in Budapest with her fiancé.

Sailing To America

There was something about the endless sky, gray and somber, and the ship’s surging through the dark swirling waters of the Atlantic, that prompted Macbeth to worry about the past. The witches. The blood. The trouble that followed. Was there a route to forgiveness? People went down on their knees, didn’t they? Could he hire someone to do it for him? He was still royalty, wasn’t he? But the breeze was so soothing, the trouble, so remote. Surely Scotland was a memory best forgotten. Besides, in the distance, he could almost see, shining like a pardon, the Statue of Liberty.

From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe

Linda Lowe's stories and poems have appeared in Gone Lawn, Tiny Molecules, Eunoia Review, Misfit Magazine, Six Sentences, and others.

Good Little Girl

The little girl waited. She waited in the casket where her mother had gently placed her before they were discovered. She couldn’t see anything from within and could hear very little, but dared not make a sound. She kept instinctively mum. She heard rapid footsteps approaching their caravan, some voices faintly saying, “There’s the witch, burn her alive.” She felt a stone bouncing off the casket and screaming accompanied by sounds of something being dragged. Much later a pungent smoky odor started filling the casket, but she still dared not move. Laboriously breathing she waited for her mother to come.

From Guest Contributor, Manjiree Marathe

Jodi Versus The Rain

Jodi watched the rain through the picture window. She'd never be allowed outside as long as the weather continued, but she looked and she plotted and she convinced herself that what her parents didn't know couldn't be punished.

She wrapped herself in plastic and stuffed her rain pants down her galoshes and even wore a special talisman that was meant to keep water away from her skin. She looked ridiculous but she was ready to take on the rain.

Although Jodi fought valiantly, she succumbed to the same fate as her great-grandmother. Witches just weren't meant to battle against rain.

Abnormal

Ben's parents adopted him late in their lives. They fed him and encouraged him to make friends and planned elaborate birthday parties that no other children came to. They did their best to give him a normal life, but something just seemed wrong with him.

Eventually, Ben's parents realized they had been wasting their time. What was the point of adopting a child if he wasn't going to attract more children to their home in the woods? They could have just kidnapped him and baked him into a pie and saved a whole lot of money on clothes and tuition.