I was led into the room without introductions. With only twelve in my year at primary school, everyone knew everyone. But I didn’t know myself. I thought I was an astronaut.

I had to orbit Earth alone in my daydreams.

From Guest Contributor Duncan Bourne

There were days when the explosions didn’t subside. The sirens became more and more frequent, especially at night. We began to sleep badly. Then one morning, while hurrying to the market, I was struck by flying debris. At the hospital the doctor first looked around to make sure no one was listening who shouldn’t be. “I just need to grab a lab coat and one egg and I can fix this,” he said. He cut my feet open and put pennies in the incisions before sewing them back up and wrapping them in bandages. He said they were lucky pennies.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is a poet and collage artist on Cape Cod. His latest poetry books are Famous Long Ago (Laughing Ronin Press) and The Bad News First (Kung Fu Treachery Press).

It’s steep over The Edge, one slip, anyone could fall. The Edge overlooks the city, and many people come here to think, make out, and party. Driving to The Edge is easy, it’s leaving that is hard. There are stories about this place; no one is ever invited. The Edge pulls you in, a tense grip leaving you struggling for air. No one really knows how they get here, there are no directions to The Edge, you just appear. I’ve been to The Edge once, it’s scary there. Dark and gloomy, even when there are no clouds in the sky.

From Guest Contributor Montana Huston

Montana is a student of journalism at Pikes Peak Community College.

I lived once upon a time on Sagittarius. That dream took me to Perseus, then to Orion, then to Orion’s arm, then to Orion Nebula, where we pick up this story. Death I travel the ways is scary. I awoke in the green realm right before entering the latest world.

To watch the end. Bye to Humanity. Why? In my mirror reality I did things and was once upon a time a person of influence. Doubt me? I doubt myself these days. I write to the same people with influence there here and nothing happens. All self bent on death.

From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle

Clinton is a blogger, disabled, expat, filmmaker, poet, and writer living in La Paz, Bolivia.

I joined the Air Raid Precautions as a warden, ready to serve. I never imagined the danger.

I returned home, fell into bed, and dreamt of my childhood, a happy, peaceful time when there was no war.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Lisa has been writing since 2010 and has had many micro-flash fiction stories published. In 2018 her book Shorts for the Short Story Enthusiasts, was published and The Importance of Being Short, in 2019. Her most recent book In A Flash, was published in the spring of 2022.

Sounds of breaking ice awaken her mind as she settles back down upon the thawing earth, with its cracks and pops as faults move forward at increasing speeds revealing hibernating secrets.

The heat she now feels comes from within.

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

“You’ve changed,” she said, as I held her in my arms. She had no idea how much, how often! But I wasn’t the man she’d known before, and I could see she’d leave me soon.

Afterwards, I crunched down on her bones, and cleaned my muzzle in the bowl by the door. Then I ran to rejoin my pack.

From Guest Contributor Alastair Millar

Alastair is an archaeologist by training, a translator by trade, and a nerd by nature. His published flash and micro fiction can be found here.