The girl next door—I keep forgetting her name—just came by, Platero. She’d found an injured woodcock.

I’m glad you didn’t witness it, dear Platero, even though now you’re sniffing the fluttered and sticky feathers.

From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys

Hervé (°1968 – Ronse, Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and he hasn’t stopped since. Generally he writes them hatless and barefooted.

It wasn’t a new year; it was the new year. Margo watched the clock tick down to midnight with bated breath. Her hand tightened around the stem of her bubbly champagne flute until her fingers turned red. A fresh start; a new beginning. As the clock struck twelve and the ding sounded the glass stem shattered in her grasp, forcing crystal shards into her palm. Blood ran down her wrist. With a resigned sigh she flopped back on the couch and watched the red drops dripping from her fingers permanently stain the rug. Oh well. There was always next year.

From Guest Contributor Madison Randolph

Madison is a reader by day and a writer by night. Her works have appeared in Friday Flash Fiction, The Drabble, Bright Flash Literary Review, Spillwords, The Chamber Magazine as well as 101 Words under the name Ryker Hayes. She can be found on Instagram madisonrandolph17 or Twitter @Madisonr1713

Because blood had been found in my urine, I was ordered to have my kidneys imaged. After I was adequately undressed, the doctor or technician took a thick wand-like instrument and ran it around my back. I could see what they could see on a small screen. Everything looked fine until a bright orange spot turned up on one of my kidneys. Thoughts of cancer or other possible diseases ran through my head. Would I lose a kidney? The exam was over soon, and I was sent away after being told that the results would be back in ten days.

From Guest Contributor Doug Hawley

“Yes, I drink human blood, but only for ritual purposes.”

As Timmy ran off, Robert spoke to Jonathan. “Talk him into coming, where else are we going to get blood for the creepy guy to drink?”

From Guest Contributor N.T. Franklin

NT Franklin has been published in Page and Spine, Fiction on the Web, 101 Words, Friday Flash Fiction, CafeLit, Madswirl, Postcard Shorts, 404 Words, Scarlet Leaf Review, Freedom Fiction, Burrst, Entropy, Alsina Publishing, Fifty-word stories, Dime Show Review, among others.

A tap on the shoulder a jolt back to reality, not reality to an abyss. Weary as someone falls on the ground blood everywhere. Running and screaming in vengeance. The puddle grows sticky I melt into the floor, watching time slow down. Put on a pedestal not to adore or admire but to pity. Voices behind me question our reality. Time slowly tick-tocks by. A car ride later, bright lights and people dawned in blue hovering over me. Green silk and glowsticks draped with fresh blood dripping on the expansive white linoleum floors. Going back, I see a molded reality.

From Guest Contributor Bandit Taylor

Bandit is a student at Pikes Peak Community College. He Is only 16 and is loving going to college for education. He is currently working on a novel based in Leningrad, Russia during the Cold War.

When the sun finally set that evening, it was as if someone was turning off a faucet. The water ran clear and cold, then stopped running altogether, leaving behind a long, jagged-edged stain on the pavement that slowly grew into a pool of blood on the street below, like a wound left open too long, growing wider.

Clouds pressed down hard against the earth while the sky darkened. The townspeople began dying in great numbers. The river never once turned red with the blood that flowed through its banks. Nothing could change the truth of who and what I’d become.

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

All below was sky. No, that isn’t right. You are upside down. The seatbelt keeps you suspended a foot above ground. Blood swells and pounds in your temples, or was it the whiskey? Frank was on the street.

A wailing siren approaches.

From Guest Contributor Kyle J. Ames

Kyle is a student of English at Pikes Peak Community College

One thing that puny humans first notice about me is my thick skin, almost as formidable as the plated armor of old. Fortified with shiny gill platelets designed for breathing. Along with flipper style claws, useful for swimming and digging. And a contour which facilitates speed under water. One drawback though, the blood coursing through my veins runs cold and thready. When winter comes and the weather drops below seventy degrees Fahrenheit, I have to be prepared for warmer living arrangements. Alligators have a unique way of solving this problem. Unfortunately skirmishes ensue. Has anybody known a gator to share?

From Guest Contributor Christopher Baker

Small furry animals have crawled out of their holes for a look. Such sights! Smashed-in skulls and severed feet and angels covered in blood. Like a nasty drunk, God has been exceptionally belligerent of late. A cadaverous woman in blue scrubs who says her name is April asks, “On a scale of 1-10, with 1 being the lowest, how severe is your pain?” Strangers on social media offer thoughts and prayers. Even then, the leaves on trees instantly wither as a burning airship passes overhead. My wife refuses a ride. We cling together just like the words in a poem.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is the author of Failed Haiku, a poetry collection that is the co-winner of the 2021 Grey Book Press Chapbook Contest. It is scheduled for publication in summer 2022.

There is a breeze blowing west. At the top of the biggest tree there is a blue jay bracing in the wind. In my peripheral vision I see a black and white figure below me walking towards the bird. As I realize it is my tuxedo cat, I hear the sound of an engine struggling to drive up towards us. I look to the East and see a truck, I look to the North and see my cat. Then there is blood on my face. As I wipe it off to make myself recognizable, my cat is no longer recognizable.

From Guest Contributor Ina Rose

Ina is a student with a passion for writing.