– Good afternoon, sir. Can I see your papers, please?

– Well…you might run into someone you bullied as a kid and who is now a cop.

From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys

“I hate this waiting,” grumbled Rob.

Rob stepped inside the grocery store smiling, relegating another ‘wait’ time to the past.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She resides in Edmonton, Canada with her husband, stuffed animals and many friends.

She was just as charismatic as he had imagined her. She was not beautiful, really, her nose was too big. But standing there in the throne room, Marcus could see why Caesar had been fascinated. Part of it was the wealth and the power. Now it was his turn to woo her; he needed her money and ships to accomplish his plan to rule Rome.

He caught her gaze and the future became real to him. They would sail the Nile and have great military successes in the East. But he couldn’t see the asp slithering along in his future.

From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius

“Look for shiny pennies, rainbows, Monarch butterflies, they’re all signs she’s trying to connect with you,” my friend Jason tried to cheer me.

So when my mother alighted on my nose while I sat in her garden, I pinched her buttery wings and wiped my hands on my pants. “Shouldn’t have come back, Mom.”

From Guest Contributor Marc Littman

“STATES DEPRESSION IS STABLE. NO THOUGHTS OF SELF-HARM. DOING PRETTY WELL ON [redacted]. NO SIDE EFFECTS. REALLY NOT THAT MUCH EFFICACY, HOWEVER.” That’s my medical chart, caps lock and all.

So, my hands are tied. Bound until bleeding.

From Guest Contributor Connor Orrico

Thinking about escaping across closed borders, I dug a hole outside. It was hard work. I pulled out bricks, barbed wire, glass bottles and jars, and old cans as I dug deeper. When my mind drifted too far into sadness, I stopped. Everything moves slowly now. I’m learning to be very stingy with supplies. On the table is a bunch of flowers I found in the trash. This may be a day for catching up on The Walking Dead, but I stand at a window that looks out on a yard. Somehow, just standing there feels like a hopeful gesture.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie Good is the author of What It Is and How to Use It (2019) from Grey Book Press, among other poetry collections.

Sure, many of the English majors at Wilson-Reed College had read works by George Orwell, Octavia Butler, and Margaret Atwood before, but they had never read them assembled together in one course, until they took Dr. Regina Cabello’s Survey of Protest Literature.

By that time, though, her many students had learned, firsthand, the lessons of it all and were already preparing themselves to join the fight.

From Guest Contributor Ran Walker

Ran is the author of 20 books. He teaches creative writing at Hampton University in Virginia. He can be reached via his website, www.ranwalker.com.

The sickness, that’s all we told Billy.

Once we gave Grampy a T-shirt emblazoned “Grampy: the myth, the legend, the man.” He wore nothing else unless it was pried off him to wash. He looked so peaceful in the casket wearing that T-shirt, we cremated him in it. Damn coronavirus.

From Guest Contributor NT 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.

The first time I’d worn a mask other than Halloween, was during the Covid-19 crisis. I needed groceries and the supermarkets had strict rules about entering without protection.

Fresh air.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

A woman sighed and leaned over the cash register. “I wish I could travel through time and be done with this shift already,” she groaned.

The woman finally stopped when she lay sick and old on her bed, having never lived at all.

From Guest Contributor Caitlyn Palmer