The mud on my face sticks to me from the heat of the sun, and I’m cramped in a hole waiting.

And so, I sit and wait.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

CONTEST WINNER:

I’m really not surprised that the war in Afghanistan didn’t go better.

From Guest Contributor Mark Thomas

I release the sewer grate and climb into the darkness, the stars my only light. I stay close to the alley in case German police scope the streets. My family is starving and out of the three of us, I’m the least weak to make the walk, even though I stumble from fatigue. We’re all in angst living in sewage, but we have no other option.

Aron, my salvation in this wretched war.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The noon sun was a blazing red ember in an ashen sky. It was all anyone could talk about. Even the dogs of the kingdom were going crazy, whining and running in circles and hypersalivating. Meanwhile, on the birthing table, the Red Queen, her knees up, her legs spread apart, her multiple chins trembling, pushed and pushed and then pushed again. Music – Wagner or perhaps Sousa, something rousing – came thundering out of her. She was like a little brass ensemble playing mightily. The royal physician remained strangely calm, as though thinking, “OK, why not?” Blood had never looked so red.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is the author of more than a dozen poetry collections, including most recently Gunmetal Sky (Thirty West Publishing).

The swarm arrived at the beginning of the week, their language that of war, and humanity the patient listeners.

After all this time, I had guessed the shape wrong.

From Guest Contributor S.R Malone

As I lifted my daughter in the air, her melodious laughter echoed. My wife waved and set the picnic table, her long blond hair blowing in the breeze. The birds chirped in unison and the squirrels scampered searching for food. The sun beamed without a cloud in the sky and I relished the day.

Tomorrow I leave for war.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Annika Dagmar, skilled with a violin, had dreamed of playing on stage with other musicians entrancing the audience. That would’ve been possible had there been no war.

The violin would never be touched by Annika’s fingers again.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Pale reaching hands slipped below powdered ash and blood-soaked mud, pressing tighter to the earth, seeking salvation in the grave-like ditch. War thundered overhead as gunpowder sparked and chorused above. The soldier turned his silver eyes over the mud—to the cemetery of barbed wire and bruised corpses.

A high-pitched scream wailed distantly from two warring steeds tethered together. He watched the blood-stained Roan shriek and kick as it fell into the sea of barbed wire; the moon-kissed Arabian jolted from the tearing spikes, her gas mask hanging from bloodied leather, not knowing whether to die quietly or while struggling.

From Guest Contributor Mikayla E. Gruber

Mikayla is currently writing a fantasy/sci-fi novel and studying English and German at Pikes Peak Comunity College. She is also working towards a CPDT-KA Certification.

I only ever communicate with Kari on Facebook. We are too similar now, both forever reliving the war we shared like stale bread. She lost her Navy career after an inpatient stay while I am just trying to get to the end of mine by avoiding the pills doctors offer for anxiety and depression. Yesterday she posted a picture from Camp Bastion of her and a British nurse we worked with. The caption said this is my favorite person from Camp Bastion. I write in the comments section my least favorite person from Bastion was me. She says she understands.

From Guest Contributor Matthew Borczon

One Hundred years in the future a time machine is built to enlist war troops. After the resistance, America was angry as the resistance killed. The Americans hijacked a plane, so the English grabbed an attack plane. The American General said, ‘We can’t shoot it down!’ His Major had an idea.

The Major said, ‘Go above the plane and drop soldiers on it!’ The General said to the Major, ‘You are right.’ As the hijacked plane flew he pushed the Major onto the attack plane. The Major’s team took out all of the enemy and both war planes landed safely.

From Guest Contributor Bayley Kelly