Stories

She blamed the glass, insisting it spontaneously broke itself in her hand. Again.

Sandra Dawson is not sure who she is but is also known as @blueberrio.

I wanted to ask permission but you were sleeping and the side of your face was totally milky and smooth and I thought like you should sleep

Scott Garson edits Wigleaf and has stories in American Short Fiction, New York Tyrant, Hobart, Quick Fiction and others.

Driving to his house for the final time, she had only two thoughts: 1. Did she have enough money for gas? 2. Had she remembered her lighter?

RJ Payne (@rebeccajpayne) is genre fiction writer based in Cambridge, England. She is a member of CWIL and www.differentstar.net.

Ran into my ex.
He said, “Nice car.”
I said, “Best car your money can buy.”
“You ran over my foot, still bitter?” he said.
“No, we’re even.”

Cindy Kerschner: author, universe contemplator, realist, surrealist, Jill-of-all-trades, twitter antics (@writelane)

Staring at the note from his pocket, she wondered if this time she would do something about it. She put it back and picked up her keys.

Jennifer Walker is a freelance writer, published in numerous magazines and websites. She is awaiting the release of her first novel.

Our best days: Him: ?  Me: …  Him: ??  Me: !!!  Him: ???  Me: @#%&!!!!  Him: …!!  Me:  >:)

Mercedes M. Yardley (@mercedesmy) was always sweet and gracious, she swears.

He glared. Sex is not a reward. She shrugged and placed a dish in the drying rack. He stewed on the couch a while, then took out the trash.

William Wood lives in an old farmhouse in the Blue Ridge Mountains with an understanding family. He often writes instead of sleeping.

Grass between toes. Painted nails, tattooed ankle, slow gait.  No haste, not as before. The fields remember her anyway. Flowers kiss hello.

Marie Croke’s brain resides in her little toe. As she walks it rattles around and around, occasionally spitting out something profound.

Our pastor left his hat here, so dad wore it to church the next week. Mid-sermon, the pastor squinted our way, so dad tipped his hat hello.

DannyPoet (@dannypoet) is a writer of fiction and poetry who is currently working on his first novel.

He leaned on her stomach, imagining he could still hear the little ghost breaths, but she pushed him away, crying, before he could be sure.

@Mari_ness lives and writes in central Florida, under the unhelpful guidance of two adorable cats.