I woke up early and went for a jog. As I followed the path through the park, I listened to nature. The sounds of the birds singing, and the squirrels running up trees were a sign of early spring. It was an unusually hot day in March, so the park benches were filled with people. I had water in my pouch and took a sip. It felt good going down into the pit of my stomach.

My first novel was accepted for publication.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

I hung up the phone and ten minutes later the doorbell rang. I peeked through the blinds, and it was James. I’d told him I didn’t want to see him anymore and he was on the stoop, holding a bouquet of red roses.

I shut the lights, went upstairs, and made myself a hot bath. Soon after, I heard his car screech away.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Sunday, you’ll have been dead a week. I sit at the kitchen table, laptop open in front of me, doing what I think you’d be doing in my place, writing something. You were a poet, a real one, a soldier with a flower in his helmet. I’m hunting and pecking when I suddenly hear the tinkling of Tibetan prayer bells. Five seconds – 10 max – pass before I realize it’s the new ringtone on my phone. A prim female voice announces, “Unknown caller.” I always just assumed Death would have the surly demeanor of the lunch ladies in a school cafeteria.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie’s newest poetry collection, Frowny Face, a mix of his prose poems and collages, is now available from Redhawk Publications He co-edits the online journal UnLost, dedicated to found poetry.

“Have I reached Frieda Grompkin?”

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

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

I’m having trouble concentrating and so I close my novel with a thump. Then I curse, having had a headache for several days that I can’t get rid of. On the coffee table there are piles of bills that I haven’t paid in months. Hence the headache.

I’ve been evicted from my apartment.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The waiter comes around to check on me again. I avert my eyes in embarrassment and try to discreetly check the time on my phone. Going on two hours now. I should really give up.

Man. Remind me to never use this app again.

From Guest Contributor Rachel Martz

Walking down the street, he stops and listens. There’s so much going on around him that he has trouble making out any specific sound on its own. The cacophony of everything around him is almost deafening. People are talking on the phone. Cars are racing down the street, honking. There’s a poor musician playing for tips. He can’t stand any of it. The sound of people shuffling around him is the worst of it, he thinks. All his life, the only thing he’s wanted was silence. He hears a whistle, then a boom, and then after that he hears nothing.

From Guest Contributor Chris Ellsworth

Tina sat in the back of a taxi on her phone. She looked up, and her breath caught.

A twisted laugh carried faintly on the wind.

From Guest Contributor Madison Randolph

Madison is a reader by day and a writer by night. Her works have appeared in Friday Flash Fiction, The Drabble, Bright Flash Literary Review, Spillwords, The Chamber Magazine, A Story in 100 Words, Free Flash Fiction, Microfiction Monday as well as 101 Words under the name Ryker Hayes. She resides in Oklahoma with her family and dog Belle where she spends her time sharpening her writing skills and drinking large amounts of coffee. Her works can be found here. She can be found on Instagram @madisonrandolph17

I love eating ice cream with Tom, we go to Cold Stone Creamery down the road whenever I’m feeling down. The 2 things that can cheer me up whenever I am not feeling the best, Tom and Chocolate Ice Cream. I asked him “Why are we here today?” “Well, you don’t seem like you’re very happy honey, thought a cup could cheer you up,” he says smiling like he always does. He looks so adorable. I want to remember this forever, I take my phone to click a picture and there is nothing. Today marks one year since Tom passed.

From Guest Contributor Mariam Dinah Jacob

My eyes opened to darkness, as I fumbled around to find my phone. The bright screen hurt to look at, but pain was overcome by the satisfaction of knowing it was only 3 AM. Quickly, I confirmed the presence of my roommate’s dark figure, fast asleep. I was yet to grow out of my fear of monsters in the dark; knowing she was here helped me sleep. Next time I awoke, she looked worried.

I shrieked.

From Guest Contributor Vaishavi V. Jituri