When I flung open the door and saw my father’s body in a pool of blood, I collapsed, screamed and cried in a fit of rage and sadness. I knew I shouldn’t have left him. He said it would be safer at Aunt Ania’s, but nowhere is safe in Poland. I had no idea the Nazis could be so brutal. He was protecting his friends and now he is dead, and they are in the hands of the Nazis.

I have nothing to lose.

From Guest Contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher

The new neighbors were installing an elevator in the three-story home on the corner. As soon as it was finished, they handed out tickets like we were going for a ride. When the doors opened, we stepped out into a blistering afternoon, where men were struggling with giant blocks of stone. Were they busy creating one of the ancient wonders of the world? It looked like we might be witnessing a miracle, but the air was stifling, thousands of years old. Wasn’t it time to go home and relax? Kick off our shoes, call an end to this crazy day?

From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe

They slept in front of stores closed for the day. Others pushed personal belongings in shopping carts.

I resumed my mission as the sun lowered into its nighttime place, knowing that at some point I won’t have enough bottles of water to distribute to those in need.

From guest contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

I browsed old photographs and hoped it would ease my sorrow. It was two weeks since he passed, and the heartache was unbearable, my chest heavy. I collapsed on the couch and clutched a picture in my hand. I revisited that day in my mind. He had just bought me a large pretzel and we were about to go on the Ferris wheel. Mom took the picture of us right before the ride. He looked so happy, his arm around me smiling, mustard on my lip.

“Goodbye, Daddy.”

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

“Ed, I can’t go on.”

“Thank God… You know, Ed, I always get a little nauseous when I swallow seawater.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

They were only pygmy hippos, she said, and she was planning to have them fixed. They were emotional support animals, one for each of her personalities, so there was nothing we could do about it. The pond became unspeakable, even though it was still below freezing. They floated there in the muck like ominous little storm clouds forming over smog. Trucks delivering their crates of fruit and greens continually blocked the driveway. Then one day their gauzy pink wings emerged. Angels, someone whispered, despite the aerial bombardment of neighboring gardens that now commenced. Then the local population began leaving offerings.

From Guest Contributor F. J. Bergmann

His washing machine breaks down, and he won’t let a repairman into the house, so he’s at the laundromat, after washing his hands six times, adjusting his surgical mask and eye goggles and latex gloves, removing the cover from his steering wheel and dusting the seat before driving; then choosing a machine, seeing some schmutz on it, spraying it transparent, staining his glove, looking up to see his future wife hand him a fresh one from her stockpile of cotton, rubber, and plastic gloves, the surprised man asking, Is that a real hazmat suit? but already thinking, I love you.

From Guest Contributor Cheryl Snell

I carried my dog Dougie to the car, his whining echoing. I was too busy engrossed in the baseball game to notice his barking and I have no idea how long he was trapped in that wire fence while I cheered and gorged on chips.

I sat and waited.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The train came to a halt, and the platform filled with German police. They entered, and people quieted while my heart pounded.

A few more stops and I’ll be safe.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Anna walks in and out of alleys to avoid the Gestapo, hiding bread and cheese under her coat to feed the Jewish child she is hiding.

Is it a lie?

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher