The fresh scent of flowers fills the air with sweetness. Diana takes a deep breath and relishes the moment, strolling through the park listening to the children play and the birds sing, the warm breeze against her face. She finds a bench, sits, puts her reading glasses on, and takes out her book. She takes a sip of water and begins reading, enthralled in the story, content with the sun on her face, when the cell phone rings.

Diana closes the novel, rushes to the car, and drives to the hospital to say goodbye to her father, her only family.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

“Have I reached Frieda Grompkin?”

“Oh. In that case, thank you for the call.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Every moment, Tom aspires to be like the stars in the sky, shining and bright. But laziness strikes over and it’s always a procrastination. But there are life changing moments, aren’t there?

Tom passed away. Today Ann runs a cancer treatment hospital in his name. She started writing poetry, especially about diseases. Ann helped Tom, so now wasn’t it Tom’s turn to help Ann from above?

From Guest Contributor Jesna Maria Jose

Sharon was proud of all the drugs she’d done. Enough drugs to supply a hospital or fund a revolution in Eastern Europe. Enough drugs that her memories of the last seven years had melted together like the rainbow of candle wax she’d made for her fifth grade science fair.

Sharon did not win that science fair, an injustice she still clings to even in her most lucid moments.

There were days when the explosions didn’t subside. The sirens became more and more frequent, especially at night. We began to sleep badly. Then one morning, while hurrying to the market, I was struck by flying debris. At the hospital the doctor first looked around to make sure no one was listening who shouldn’t be. “I just need to grab a lab coat and one egg and I can fix this,” he said. He cut my feet open and put pennies in the incisions before sewing them back up and wrapping them in bandages. He said they were lucky pennies.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is a poet and collage artist on Cape Cod. His latest poetry books are Famous Long Ago (Laughing Ronin Press) and The Bad News First (Kung Fu Treachery Press).

Positive and quarantined at home, my days edge along like a snail. Immersed in social media and Netflix, suddenly, I gasp for oxygen. Panting for a breath, I’m rushed to the hospital. Tethered to oxygen, I yearn to hug and cradle my child. I have to bake her birthday cake. I want to see her victorious smile when I lose at UNO. I must leave a lingering kiss on my husband’s lips. Flustered by my thoughts, I inhale into darkness.

Cool air blows as the blanket is snatched off me. “Mom, the Zoom password is incorrect.” I breathe in relief.

From Guest Contributor Hetal Shah

Hetal graduated with her Bachelor of Commerce from SIES. She lives in Mumbai with her husband, son, and daughter. She rekindled her hobby of writing over the past year. She is the winner of Mumbai Poetry League 2020, and her poem was published in an anthology by Poets of Mumbai called Guldastaa A Bouquet of Poems. She also writes flash fiction, and has been published twice on 101words.org. She loves to read, and especially enjoys reading and writing stories of romance and everyday life. Besides writing, she enjoys cooking new cuisines, traveling, and singing.

Through the stained-glass window, the heat of the sun beams on my face while mellifluous birds chirp in unison. I yearn to be outside on this spring day, listening to the sounds of nature, and children’s chortles, but my body lays limp.

After my arduous episode, I rest soundly.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The courier waits outside the O.R. A moment after a surgeon calls the time of death, a nurse emerges, hands her a container. He says, “Go!”

Always urgent, never finished. Hurrying.

From Guest Contributor Todd Mercer

Todd writes Fiction and Poetry in Grand Rapids, Michigan. His collection Ingenue was published in 2020 by Celery City Press. Recent work appears in Blink Ink, Literary Yard and Pangolin Review.

Option 1: The books I’ve read on the left hand side, those I haven’t on the right hand side.

First, the daily routine: checking the updates, every day at the same time, hoping they announce that during the past 24 hours there were no fatalities to regret, no one was admitted to hospital and all those that have been – even those in Intensive Care – were allowed to leave. But that didn’t happen today. Today, I try keeping it together by choosing between two options.

From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys

Hervé SUYS (°1968 – Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and hasn’t stopped since.

If it was up to me, I would be anywhere else but this waiting room.

The news is not good. It’s twins and my husband has been in prison for two years.

From Guest Contributor Bernie Hanvey