April worked the shop counter, gritting through the arthritis and the insinuations, hoping her obsolete wedding ring would ward off anything worse. Her smile was too often seen as an invitation, but her popularity with the customers meant her paycheck was one less thing she had to fret over. Plus she got free repairs.

In winter, when she was locking up after dark, she noticed the shadows piled up in the corners of the lot despite the reflected fluorescence. Something was out there waiting for her, waiting for her to be buried under debt and trauma, waiting to consume her.

The stars saw her face, someone who wishes wildflowers never died, thunder always accompanied rain, and the sounds of the waves were something that left the shoreline. Even the tears she shed when she thought it was only her and the items of clothes on the floor because the mirror just did not look right. The stars saw the smile she wore when he cherished her in the dark and the tears she lost when she was left to her own company on the worst nights. Some nights the stars were enough. Some nights, she wished they would do more.

From Guest Contributor Caitriona Mullenix

As the Strawberry moon sets on the peak the sky shines bright like a diamond ready for its new owner. Spring weather in the Springs is springing but the cool breeze feels good on our cocoa butter infused skin. Your eyes bright like a newborn showing off their first smile and your touch soft yet warm like Vicuña. The record player sings the soft sweet sounds of “The Sweetest Taboo” with our feet’s glued to the floor with no care in the world. Nights like this are longed for with breathtaking experiences, never ending memories but nothing like wishful thinking.

From Guest Contributor Renee’ Battle

Renee’ is a student studying broadcasting and legal studies at Pikes Peak State College.

Scarlett looks away. “I will pray for your soul, Phineas.”

“Thank you, Scarlett. I can only pray for your death similarly. It’s the least I can do.”

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

Jogging through the park, I keep the pace feeling energetic and free. The breeze against my cheeks feels refreshing and the chirping birds fill the air with song.

After breakfast and a shower, I will go about my regular weekend visiting my dad in the nursing home memory unit.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

“In the basement?” I throw my face at Sunny. Gosh. I hate him sometimes. “What could you possibly want to show me…in the basement?”

He kneels. “Will you marry me?” A ring sparkles in my face.

From Guest Contributor Tom Okafor

A clang-like sound from hell fills my head. As you make your way closer, I fill up to the brim with dread. My pulse quickens as you close the divide. What is it that I just cannot find? There is a puzzle within me, stirring my mind. ALIVE! There is a constant feeling buzzing, electric and alarming. But then your smile is just so disarming. You pull me close and breathe in a kiss. My lips feel pierced by the tip of something I missed. The bells–screaming inside. Though I cannot see it yet, there is something you hide.

From Guest Contributor Jessah Rutledge

Jessah is a Marketing and Admin Assistant for a Realty Company and a Pikes Peak Community College student studying Fine Arts and Writing.

Charles’ aide was fast asleep on the couch, television blaring. He slipped out the back door and walked not knowing where he was going. He watched the strangers pass and smile as if they knew him. Charles had been lonely, scared, and uncertain about where he belonged, so he walked and walked. It became dusk and he wasn’t sure of his surroundings and stared confused.

Charles stared blankly at the lady.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

On their Golden Anniversary, he started calling her by different names and nicknames on a random basis – Stewie and Stewbabe, Audrey, Boobala, Doc, Squig, and so on – knowing he’d never forget her real name, but figuring that when he finally reached the peak of Mt. Alzheimer he’d be able to cover it up a little longer, give her less to worry about.

After that, he knew he’d never play the alias game again.

From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette

Ron.’s debut chapbook, Fallen Away (Finishing Line Press) is now available at all standard outlets. Many of his published works can be found at EGGS OVER TOKYO

Quantum time travel agency. Opened? Depends on how you look at reality. Is it really 2023? Or 2015, according to Ethiopian? Or if you pay attention to 1600 thought 1900 century, are we really in 1769? Say what? If you pay attention to numbers. Chinese calendar, along with other calendars there seems to be three hundred years missing. How? Or why? Again, several features say you are wrong. I smile. Pay attention to calendars appear to be a mixture of lies and falsehoods creating what, exactly? Chances to change time. Doubt me? The Dyson sphere is real. Heaven or hell?

From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle