Night Terror by Marcelo Medone
Their eyes met wildly in the restaurant. They sneaked out into the night alley. She, dressed to kill. He never imagined it was literally true.
Marcelo Medone is a poet and fiction writer from Buenos Aires, Argentina. His works have been published in more than 30 countries around the world.
He loves women with provocatively painted nails.
Through the Fire by Charlotte Kim
The house fire burned my legs and heart. Watery tinsel adorned widened eyes as my angel fled back to hellish flames. Tears couldn’t save dad.
Charlotte Kim graduated from the University of Southern California with a BA in Communication. Her work has been published in Fifty Word Stories, and is forthcoming in The Parliament Literary Journal and Five Minutes.
Three pieces by Edmund Fines
Steel Waters Run Deep
We swam downstream from the forge outlet pipes where the water was warmer. Afterward, we smoked cigarettes and admired the metallic sheen on our skin.
Pigment of My Imagination
The new oil painting was white. But at different times of day, it took on various hues. The violets alone made it worth the money.
He wandered the world searching for the one thing his nature wouldn’t allow, a home. She thought he was selfish. He wished she’d come along.
Edmund Fines lives in Toronto with his wife, daughter, and versatile pug. He recently had a short story published with Acta Victoriana.
Two pieces by Elizabeth Zahn
Shake Your Palm, Palm
Hubby’s texts harped on. Appliances beeped, buzzed, pinged, and peeped for my attention. What? Calypso music? On Saturday morning? I leap for my lover’s call.
Find Your Fire
Savannah’s holly bush never bore berries. When she learned holly’s dioecious (needs a mate), she planted a male. The bush fruited. But Savannah has not.
Elizabeth Zahn writes short fiction from Long Island, NY, for now. She thinks James Taylor’s right, “The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time.” Find her at www.elizabethzahn.com
Three pieces by Abigail Lyman
St. Lucia Lilac
First spring dawn, tangled in branches.
Can’t tell her this year, not on top of Dad.
Would she even remember?
Sunlit, paper petals look alive.
Flying Solo“…evacuation slides will not provide flotation…”
Just enough air to keep itself above water. None for you.
Pilot over intercom: “It’s been a long day.”
Do You Sea What I Sea?
Waiting on lunch, we stroll the marina.
Two boys dangle off prow, poke fish dead white in seaweed.
He hooks the stiff fish. “Bait.”
Abigail Lyman is in a world spoken by her Creator, and she’s overjoyed to live His art and create her own. Neither of them plan on shutting up anytime soon.Her inspirations include ND Wilson’s “Notes From the Tilt-a-Whirl”, the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins, and Emmanuel Sander & Douglas Hofstadter’s “Surfaces & Essences”.Her short story “Bioluminescence” won the William Faulkner Literary Competition, and her haiku “Fractal” placed first in HSLDA’s poetry contest.She can be reached at email@example.com.