Seven-year-old Ava Mendez fidgets with Mimi’s cellphone in her lap.

Daddy, in a holding cell waiting for deportation, has not forgotten nor heard her angelic voice in three days and nights.

From Guest Contributor Yknow

Debra sat beside her husband’s hospital bed, the click of the monitor a regular tune in her head. Barry laid there, his breathing calm and steady. Seeing him hooked up to tubes and unconscious was an unbearable sight. Still, she read to him daily and hoped he heard, but his eyes never opened. It had been one year since his car accident. Trauma to the brain was what the doctor called it.

As the doctor unplugged the monitor, Debra watched Barry’s chest stop moving.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

“Screw you!” I scream through bloody cracked lips.

It was my turn again.

From Guest Contributor Mike Jackson

Mike lives in the UK and enjoys writing short tales, especially Drabbles. Many of his offerings can be found on his blog ‘Stories In Your Pocket.’

Two street-wise punks entered the fast food restaurant looking for trouble. With food loaded on trays, they turned to the seating area. One of the two nudged the other and nodded toward a table for six with an elderly lady alone. SLAM! She jumped when they slammed their trays onto the table. A sneer toward the young men said it all.

Finally, the elderly lady spoke to the two young men. “Would one of you bastards please pass the napkins?”

From Guest Contributor NT Franklin

In the weeks after her mother died, Pamela had no skin. Everything was surface—every twitching nerve, every gush of bile. When Creepy Carl told her to smile as he dropped off his rent check, her lips peeled back to the bone.

But it was. She wouldn’t have her raw insides sheathed in lies. She slept in the guest room, on top of the blankets, oozing resentment.

From Guest Contributor Carrie Cook

Carrie received her MA in Creative Writing from Kansas State University and is currently living in Colorado. Her work has appeared in The Columbia Review, Midwestern Gothic, Menacing Hedge, and Bartleby Snopes.

Worst thing about having a drunken Da who pissed people off was that Malachy tended to suffer from ‘trickle-down’ syndrome: friendships nurtured in his own child-like manner evaporating as parents infected would-be playmates with their contempt for his father.

Still, it was quiet, and the symphony of wind and wildlife was wonderful.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

Marvin is out cold after his drink is spiked.

Clark will avenge the death of his best friend, Marvin the Elastic Man.

From Guest Contributor Denny E. Marshall

“Tell me words that describe your universe,” she begs, “give me images for what I can’t see.”

For the sake of our impossible love, for that morning when your world remained silent, for the memory of a destroyed planet.

From Guest Contributor Russell Hemmell

Russell is an alien from Mintaka snuggled into a (consenting) human host. Recent fiction on Gone Lawn, Not One of Us, Typehouse Literary Journal, and elsewhere.

Sarah sat on the beach swooshing her toes through the hot sand. In the near distance, two young girls were building a sand castle, arguing about who was the better swimmer. Sarah turned up the radio and tuned them out. She closed her eyes and let the warm ocean breeze sooth her tension. With a smile on her face she listened to the waves, in between her favorite songs.

Within minutes the sun disappeared and it began to thunder and lightning. Seconds later Sarah was drenched and running to her car, the day ruined.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

I saw the beauty, but didn’t realize the character wasn’t worthy.

Afterwards she wanted to go shopping. She liked many things, but bought only a dozen of them. She also got stuff for her family. I had by now earned 500 credit card points and sageness. She talked about women’s equality.

From Guest Contributor Manmeet S Chadha.

Manmeet is an alumunus from The London School of Economics & Political Science. He works in India as an Economist & Writer.