The engine gives out and we’re about to crash. I guide the plane as best I can and brace for impact. Then there’s blackness.

There’s a crackling noise, flames and then nothing.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The trick or treaters are finally done for the night. Time for some soothing TV. Must be some
horror movie, some ghastly looking character is staring at the camera emoting “You’ll be dead
before the night is over.”

Must have a really late tricker, someone’s at the door now.

From Guest Contributor Doug Hawley

Every time Marvin rode the subway, he thought of Sarah. It got to the point he wondered if she was haunting him. For more than a decade they’d ridden the train together every morning, her to the high school where she taught, him to the warehouse that he managed. When he closed his eyes, he felt Sarah sitting next to him. Sometimes she’d even lay her head on his shoulder like she used to. He didn’t want to look for fear of what he would see.

The dead ARE ghosts, but not in the world around us. They live inside.

It’s one of those days when the pollution’s so thick, you can stare directly at the sun and it looks like the old Japanese flag. We call it the smog moon.

Now, most of the gang are either dead, in jail, or under contract, and smog moons make me sad remembering.

Megan watched Max watch TV. This went on for days. Max was too sad to do anything else. He’d stopped going to work. He wasn’t seeing any friends. He even refused to answer the door. He just binged whatever old sitcom Netflix recommended next.

But Megan was stubborn too. She’d keep haunting Max as long as it took to get him off the sofa and out of their house. She may be dead, but Max had a life still to lead.

The dust stuck to everything, even my sweat. The heat wasn’t as dry as everyone said. I’d be happy when this job was over and I could head back to the city.

If I wasn’t headed to heaven to kill a man, I’d have assumed I was the one who was already dead.

“Otto, I heard something.”

But Otto was playing dead.

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Zorbus Glitterwand walked smugly into the Conclave. He was universally regarded as the worst wizard in the world, with several guild awards on his mantle at home testifying to that fact.

This night, the Conclave died in a hail of fire and maelstrom.

Christopher ran as fast as possible to the station. Typical, leaving it to the last minute.

The apology will forever go unstated. He will forever be alone. Christopher has fallen out of time.

Maria watched the crowd gathered around her. It was too many people, too much forgotten history and buried resentments that she’d rather not remember. Let all of them leave her in peace.

Everyone else could go. These last few moments should just be for the ones she truly cared about. Leave the eulogizing for after she was dead and buried.