Roger has a tremendous urgency to explore. Everywhere he travels, he moves extremely fast. There are never any stops along the way, and no sightseeing, at least not in the traditional sense.

In the time it’s taken you to read this, Roger has traveled 3.35 million miles.

I couldn’t help but keep my hand on my stomach as the baby kicked inside. “Jace, you can’t tell Jeffrey the baby is yours. It would destroy him, our marriage.”

I knew from the tears in his eyes the baby was gone.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The thing about small towns is everyone knows everyone.

The thing about small towns is everyone knows who the vampires are.

If we hadn’t been watching them for years, pondering their moves, their moods, their governments; if we hadn’t probed several of their species, and winced when they inflamed their planet; if we hadn’t seen the hatred they exacted upon each other, and the disregard they displayed for the welfare of other life, we might have shown them patience, and considered their plea for refuge, when they landed their crude spaceship upon our soil. But we had seen too much, and knew all too well what they were capable of—and so we slew the humans as quickly as we could.

From Guest Contributor Wolfgang Wright

Wolfgang is the author of the comic novel Me and Gepe and the forthcoming science fiction novel Being. His short work has appeared in over forty literary magazines, including Dark Yonder, Oyster River Pages, and Paris Lit Up. He doesn’t tolerate gluten so well, quite enjoys watching British panel shows, and devotes a little time each day to contemplating the Tao. He lives in North Dakota.

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