At the reunion, I smiled and told them about things I’d done five years ago.

Frances Koziar is a twenty-something retiree in Kingston, Ontario, and a microfiction editor at 101 Words.

We have received your resistance to authority and filed it with the appropriate department.

Lissa Bay is a rebel in Oakland, California.

My conversational ideal involves two chairs, burning wood, and a bottle. His: only screens and thumbs. So, no, we haven’t talked in a while.

Ben Roth’s fiction has been published by Flash, Blink-Ink, Sci Phi Journal, Aesthetics for Birds, Cuento Magazine, and 101 Words.

Mom’s letters stopped suddenly when I was ten years old. Dad didn’t say anything, but he bought me a Sony Walkman.

O.C. Dalvey writes simple sentences. And sometimes fragments.

She never told me she was married and had kids. OK, I admit I never told her I was married either. But at least I don’t have kids.

Steve Legomsky is a law professor. He has published several academic books and journal articles, a novel, and a few short stories.

He asks his wife at sundown if she’s married.

She reaches for her left hand, but when her answer comes, she’s alone in the room.

Esther Rohm is the average height of a woman.

Piled together watching cartoons–still not too big to snuggle. I hope you’ll remember this in twenty years. I hope it sustains you.

Sara Jackson is an author of speculative fiction and other disputable truths.

She married an attorney, pleased over the status it brought. When she learned about the adultery, she wanted them to sell the weekend home.

Norbert Kovacs lives and writes in Hartford, Connecticut.

Every time we meet you ask if I got new glasses. I thought we were better friends than that.

Alisa Golden tries not to make a spectacle of herself.

White rose petals, glasses of wine, a fading sunset—holding your hand through the streets of Paris, I knew I should’ve left you long ago.

Daniel Boyko is a writer.