It’s freezing and I’m stranded on a back road with no cell service and a raging snow storm. In my defense, the snow was light when I started driving and this is not what the weather forecast predicted. I’m pinned in the car and can’t move. My chest aches, most likely from the impact, and my left leg is throbbing. It must be fractured. I’m too weak and cold to move and I’m afraid if I try to, I’ll hurt myself more. All I can do is wait and pray.

I’m rescued.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Apprehension accompanied me to my car. How would they react? With sadness? Indifference?
I placed the bouquet lovingly into the trunk, holding back tears.

I set the vase onto my desk in the classroom, for my art students to observe, interpret and present their creativity onto canvas—of a life stilled.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

I parked across the street and put the car in park. I had the radio low and gulped a beer, hoping a cop wouldn’t catch me in the act. Fortunately, no cars were in sight.

I knew then what I had to do.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

All six-year-old Charlie wanted for Christmas was a baby brother or sister. When he sat on Santa’s plump lap, he asked him for that wish. His response to the young boy was: “That’s out of my control little one.” Charlie sighed, slumped off his lap and walked in silence back to the car with his mom.

The wish for a sibling faded away.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

I sat parked with the seat back and the radio playing classical music. The weather forecast called for sunshine, but it began to drizzle. I decided to wait and hoped the rain would pass. I had nowhere else to go, so sticking it out was the logical choice. As the rain subsided, I shut the radio, raised the seat and turned the car off.

The sky clouded and then it poured.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

When I think of the nights we spent together snuggling and planning the future, it makes my stomach ache. How could he have an affair with my sister who I adored. I remember when I walked into the bedroom, Sarah screeched, and Jeff’s mouth dropped. I nearly trampled his cat Muffin fleeing the room. I could hear their footsteps following me down the stairs and calling my name, but I rushed out the door and into my car peeling down the street. I blasted the radio to distract the images of their naked bodies entwined.

Now, I plot my revenge.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Scott retraces the events of that evening to understand what went wrong. Candles were lit. Dinner reservations at Jen’s favorite restaurant. A dozen red roses.

A single broken rose is all he has left to remember her by.

I wake up and it’s almost dark. I hear boom…boom…boom. I think it’s the raccoons jumping across the roof on their way to look for food. Maybe it’s the wind, the porch swing hitting the house, fireworks for some forgotten holiday or the war we’ve been waiting for but when I pull back the curtain on the window in the door, each rectangle of glass is a piece of your thumping heart, the size of a car, its feathery periwinkle veins like map-rivers, red finger-branches steady, wrapping down around the lower chambers, stamping the glass with tree patterns, knocking. Asking.

From Guest Contributor Brook Bhagat

Brook (she/her) is the author of Only Flying, a Pushcart-nominated collection of surreal poetry and flash fiction on paradox, rebellion, transformation, and enlightenment from Unsolicited Press. Her work has won contests and appeared in Monkeybicycle, Empty Mirror, Soundings East, Anthem: A Tribute to Leonard Cohen, and elsewhere. Two new collections, Exodus with Red Delicious and I Drink from an Ear: Real Ghazals, are forthcoming from Unsolicited Press in 2026 and 2027. She is a founding editor of Blue Planet Journal, the founder and facilitator of The Nearby Universe writers’ group, and a professor of creative writing at Pikes Peak State College.

The EMT says everything will be okay while the ambulance siren blares in the background. I’m in and out of consciousness and not sure what has happened. The last thing I remember is getting into my car to drive to Ally’s house.

I remember. I was going to propose to Ally.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

When my car flipped in the air, I presumed that was the end, but I was alive, and my wife and daughter were gone.

The heinous drunk driver was brought before the court and his fate will be awaited by my testimony.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher