You know that FOMO feeling when you realize your friends have been hanging out without you? Every insecurity threatens to overwhelm as you fear never being invited out again and wonder what horrible things were said about you in your absence?

Of course, every time I awaken from a particularly delicious dream I must worry about what fantasies I’ve left behind.

Dave and Heather sat in cafe and looked at their phones. There was a lot David wanted to say, but the place was crowded and he didn’t want to be overheard.

So much for promises.

In the wet sand, Sally, Chris, and Mel worked on their sand castles. The tide would soon turn. A few beach walkers stopped to observe the construction site.

The walkers moved on toward the parking lot. They were long gone by high tide, as were the two proper sand castles and memories of them. But, still, they wondered what the hell had Mel been up to?

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Steel prices being what they were, a single sword was worth the same as a medium-sized village. We’re just talking the value of the land, buildings, and farm animals. The human lives weren’t counted, since they mostly had a negative cost the way these things were reckoned.

Walter kept his sword hidden below his floor boards. It was a secret that had belonged to his family for generations. His ancestors were once counted among the nobility. Now there was just this sword. He could sell it and feed his children, but this would be frowned upon by his financial advisor.

When I met my biological father, Robert, I was surprised at the similarities. We had a small mole on the left side of our temple, and I was left-handed, as he was. But the similarities stopped there. He was a selfish man. He left with another woman before I was born, and my mom had to be mother and father. Fortunately, she met my stepdad, and he made us a family.

Rest in peace, dad.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The rejection stings. Dave stumbles down the sidewalk, absorbed in his own thoughts, oblivious to the people walking nearby or the rain pouring overhead. Motor memory guides him back to his apartment despite never making a decision to walk home. He’s too preoccupied with being left standing on the curb looking a fool. The others were probably still laughing.

If only he’d been a few seconds quicker, he could have boarded the bus before the door slammed in his face.

“Are you ready?” Tim asked.

“My house is gone,” Clara choked back tears. “Yours too, Tim?”

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Spring is here. The annual renewal of the town means that colors abound, including in the faces of every passerby. People say hello to each other in a friendly manner that hasn’t been seen since the previous year. The smiles are contagious.

Business was much better during the plague. For once in living memory the townspeople actually welcomed his ministry instead of the doctor’s.