Emma Mazzucco

Sean King

Benjamin Chandler

Sarah Park

Jay Knowles

Sam Becker

English

hi, my name is e-Emma. She said. she was really nervous

“Yooooooooo! I’m g-Emma.” She answered. “Nice to meetcha. You must have some questions, e-Emma. Shoot.”

Her stomach felt like a net full of dragonflies as e-Emma gawked at all the other Emmas. "How many of us are there?" g-Emma smiled, "Just 26. There's no more letters in the alphabet." "LIES!" came a cry from the other side of the room, & one of the Emmas overturned a table.

Her bloodshot eyes told the rest of the Emmas how little sleep she had gotten. "THERE'S MORE EMMAS THAN 26, I SWEAR! I SAW ONE STARING BACK AT M-" z-Emma was interrupted by sharp knocking on the door. "Oh no, my mom would faint if she saw all 26 of us!" e-Emma tried shoving all

Emmas up the attic. She hushed them and told them to not so much as make a single noise. Mom opened the door. “Oh hey mom!” She closed the door again. The trapdoor gave way and all the Emmas fell. “That was a close one!”

The Omega Emma

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Marta P

Jacob Sherman

Watching the plate of pasta catapult towards our waiter, Alfredo sauce splattering all over his apron and my brand new suit, I realized that my chance at a successful proposal was over. The idea of a romantic candlelit dinner and popping the question was no more. What do I do?

There was only one thing to do. I stood up on my chair and yelled “FOOOOOD FIGHT!” Then I hurled a coconut shrimp plate at the table next to us, and poured my drink on a passing busboy.

The busboy gave me a slap across the face. "Sir, with all due respect, we are currently feeding starving children in Africa. Please think twice before wasting food." The children looked at me like I was mad. The concept of wasting food was foreign to them.

“My bad, I’ll make sure to finish my food.” Momma was proud she raised a good boy. “And you make sure them African kids get none of ya food!” Pardon my mother, she was raised during the Potato Famine.

Considering the Potato Famine happened 177 years ago, she looks pretty spry don't you think? Her secret? That's been passed via a select line of Secret Keepers. I alone chose who will receive it next. Are you ready? Are you sure? Come closer. Let me whisper it to you. It's hooch.

Coconut Shrimp Helper

Phil Harwell

He died. Everyone was sad. They were crying

and crying and crying. Tears puddled on the floor, but still their wailing would not stop. Nothing would comfort them. The tear-puddles became ankle deep, then came up to everyone's knees. But did they stop crying? They wanted to, but they could not. If only they knew that 1 song

with the chorus “stop yer cryin, stahhhp yer crooyinnn, stahahahahap yore crowyeeeeeen bahybeee!” It was a hit in 1967, or maybe ‘68. Who sang that, anyway? A one hit wonder to be sure.

I was more of a fan of the B side, a quirky little tune called “Car Wash”, which stuck out in my mind, making it more memorable than the hit. The best part was the guitar solo, a 1-minute jam that

lasted for one minute. Interesting how that works, huh? But the best piece of music I ever came across was 4’33” by John Cage. It really helped me focus on my studies and get some peace and quiet. It succinctly explained life in such great detail. I wish it lasted longer, though.

death

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I saw her. People think I'm crazy but I'm not.

I said "Bloody Mary come alive!" 3 times at the bathroom mirror in the dark & I swear I saw someone looking back at me. But the weird thing is she didn't look like what I thought Bloody Mary would look like. For example, I thought she'd have stringy hair, but her hair was totally

sprongly. Like all over the place. And she wasn’t covered head to toe with blood either. And her name wasn’t Mary. “It’s Maurice,” she corrected. Well alright, not so bloody Maurice, I hath summoned thee for a most important bidding. Except… what did I want her to do? I pondered.

“Hey Maurice,” I finally spoke, “Go bring me some ketchup!” She floated out the bathroom and came back with a bottle of ketchup, red stains all over her dress. It’s all coming together. “Now pretend your name is Mary. If anyone asks, it’s Mary. Got it?” “It’s Maurice!”

"C'mon Maurice. Mom is going to flip if she learns the ghost haunting my place has the same name as her deceased second husband. Just for the afternoon. How about 'Mara' or 'Maureen'?"

Just as those words were uttered, said Mom stormed into the room. Upon seeing Maurice, she froze dead in her tracks. "I thought I made sure you were gone for good when I pushed you off the balcony, you fool! Guess I'll just have to kill your ghost, too!" And she did.

Mary Maurice, Malcontent Niece

I told him I was tanning and I was gonna go in the water but he did not listen.

I wasn't surprised when I heard him calling, "Where are you?" from the kitchen. I hollered back, "I'm in the pool!" but he must not have heard me. He kept calling for me so I got out of the water, dried off, & found him writing me a message on the bathroom mirror with toothpaste.

What a waste of toothpaste! It read, “We ran out of toothpaste.” He wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. Or maybe he wanted me to go do the groceries, as I always did, in which case this would be a 200 IQ play.

It started coming together for me then. He couldn’t cook, he didn’t like takeout, so I always cooked. Any time I asked him to do dishes, a glass broke. He didn’t clean anything, because he didn’t know how. Am I a spouse or a nanny?

Or a spanny? What a big kid, I wouldn’t be surprised if he asked me to change his diapers next. And he’s my husband! I felt as if everything I did was taken for granted. To teach him a lesson I called someone over. Who, you might ask? A father figure to straighten him up.

So one evening as we were having dinner, our front door was ripped clean off of its hinges by the very man I'd called for help. And that is the story of how G.I. Joe once stood in my living room, giving my husband a course in manners and behavior.

Tans

Heaven Bassett

Rietje Becker

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Her boyfriend was mad she cheated. He smacked her

, or at least he attempted to. She deflected his attack, and responded by kicking the stuffing out of him, using her martial arts training well. “I told you, numbskull, that wasn’t me. I didn’t cheat! Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you are a lying, cheating, bi—“ She knocked him down again. “I never cheated, ever! I would never do that, and I never have.” She broke down in tears. Her phone buzzed on the table. Before she could reply, he got up and snatched her phone, and saw a horrifying text.

“No one owns anymore else.” That was all it read. It was from an unknown number. It was horrific because reading it made him forget his anger, question their relationship, and realize how many of his problems were his own fault. “I need some air”, he whispered.

It hurt. Processing the steps he’d taken to get to this ending, the same ending. He’d drug her over hard ground as he marched on, the same direction as usual. He’d blamed her for changing, for her skin thickening to shield from the rocky terrain. It was him. It was always him.

This moment of self reflection made him pause. Maybe it was time for a change - a new day. One where he would appreciate every moment and unique creature he encountered. He stepped forward, accidentally squishing a bug. Well, he thought, maybe I’ll start tomorrow.

Cheaters

The Wordplayer

I started cutting my wrist. I told myself that I am so deppresed

The immortal words of Papa Franku echoed in my head. “Sideways for attention, longways for results.” At first I sat there, confused over its meaning, but then I looked down at my wrist, and all doubt was cleared. Horizontal lines all over it. Would it be different this time?

I pulled my long sleeve back to my wrist, covering up my past attention-getters. It wasn’t worth it this time. Nothing seemed worth it. Whether it was deep depression or simply ennui, I couldn’t even tell anymore. I was so used to being down that it all seemed to melt together.

The worst part was my arm tattoos were all colorful drawings of candy. They made everyone think my depression was a joke. And wearing long sleeves in Phoenix isn’t fun either.

What they didn’t know was that I had crippling depression. And on top of that I had osteoporosis. And I’m gay. I would sometimes lick my arms to taste the candy on them. Tastes a lot like blood actually. I finally decided to trek across the country to find the greatest therapist.

Depressed

"He is physically abusing me!" I yelled hoping someone would hear me.

“Oh, quit being overdramatic!” he retorted, “You didn’t get a free handbag, so what? Why don’t you scream ‘Fire’ instead, since you like getting attention so much!” Everyone stopped in their tracks, eyes fixed towards us. Some whipped out their phones. “World Star!” a voice went.

She leapt up on a chair and started singing opera. Puccini, perhaps? I’m not sure. She couldn’t help it. When a camera was focused on her, she felt compelled to perform. Even in line at the DMV.

Her voice was so loud and so clear that every single window simultaneously exploded into dust. A man rushed in claiming insurance for his damaged vehicle, but was drowned out by the thunderous applause of the audience who cheered in support of the singer. DMV? More like MTV.

A video of her "performance" went viral. Dozens of agents approached the Singer, but only one got her signature: me, Desiree "Devoted" Donatello. You might know some of my other clients like Mary Lynn Monroe, a model for Kohl's catalogs, or Li'l Bronty, the tiny rapping dinosaur.

The worst part of it all was she threw it all away over some argument about “exposure” and “notoriety.” She wanted control over the situation, but that’s just not possible in a case like this. So she did the one thing she could do: she deleted everything & never spoke of it again

stars

How could he do this? I thought. He cheated on me with her? Taylor swift was right. Boys only want love its torture. She warned me too. I will never open up to another person again

Not anybody. Not even my therapist. This secret is going to my grave. After all, I’ve got plenty to talk to Dr. Hamill about, so I don’t need to bring this up for a long time. If ever.

It will be my little secret. My precious. I will not trade it for anything. Not even at the confession booth. He would have known anyways. What is my secret? Hah! I’m not telling. Dr. Hamill fixes his glasses to the bridge of his nose. “Have you ever used any illicit substances?”

“Oh my, yes I certainly have, Doctor! I mean, I went from college in the late 70s to the music industry in the 80s. If it can make you feel good, I’ve tried it at least twice! But I don’t have the time for any serious habit. I’m just too busy.”

The doctor withdrew a key from a pocket inside his coat & used it to open the bottom drawer on his desk. Did angels sing as he opened it? Was light shining from within? Was that the smell of her high school sweetheart's shampoo? "Try this," he said, holding a bottle. "It's love."

Love

Damaskox

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Scarlet . She worked at a amusement park in the summer of course.

It was the hottest day of the summer, and she could barely keep herself hydrated enough. As she waited at the Ferris wheel for the ride to end, she became lightheaded all of a sudden, then everything went black…

No, that’s not exactly the best way to describe it, it’s more as if an editor took two different clips and spliced them together, no transition. There was no “black”. The next moment, she arose from her dreamless sleep and found herself on a hospital bed. Water. She needed water.

She rose, and pushed aside the curtains around her bed. She could see water for miles in every direction. She was on a raft getting farther from shore every minute.

What's happening? Was she dreaming? A cold chill ran down her neck and then panic rose its ugly head.

"You're mine!" a hoarse voice cried. She ran past branch after branch in the cemetery, not daring to look back. She tripped on a root at the entrance and looked up to find a tombstone with a mirror. She stared back at her bare skull and realized with horror: she was already dead.

summer

Her boyfriend knew she was pregnant. He was gonna say something to her today. She got home and her boyfriend was sitting there. He said

“Golly gee, I looked everywhere but I can’t seem to find the milk for my cereal? Do you know how bad that is? It’s a real emergency!” His girlfriend, whom he got pregnant, looked at him with utter disbelief. “Well, use mine then!” He was about to complete the “dump” part when she

let loose a blood curdling scream. He stepped back, shocked. She whispered “put the bowl down, get your jacket, and leave this house now. You are not welcome back until you learn to behave like a human being.”

Huffing, I promptly did as told and exited the house. How dare they not appreciate my howler monkey impression, the one that I'd spent so many nights practicing in my bathroom mirror. My neighbors sure seem to love it, howling right back at me most evenings.

I'd only walked half a block before a man in a yellow hat approached me. "Excuse me, sir," he said, "but was that your howler monkey impression I heard earlier?" I said it was. "I'm Eli Cola, record producer," he said. "We have a very particular clientele & can use your talents."

“I’m sorry Mr. Cola, but I must decline. I’ve had enough run-ins with Hollywood to know that nothing good ever comes out of these things. I do hope you find what you’re looking for.” Eli sighed. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to convince you at all?” I shook my head.

Hollywood

It was early morning. Her hot boyfriend walked in and said Good morning sleepy. She all of a sudden felt like she was going to throw up. She pushed past her boyfriend and ran to the bathroom. She was thinking the worst. She might be pregnant from last week from what happened

Or it could’ve been those questionable tacos from last night. She caressed the porcelain throne as she puked like she never had before. Her hot boyfriend knocked on the door. “You okay in there?” he asked. She didn’t know what the cause was, so she just played dumb.

"All good! Yeah, totally, just uh... practicing my award winning speech!" She managed to spit out in between gags. Her smoking hot and devilishly handsome boyfriend bought her silly excuse, due to the fact that he was a himbo.

She kept staring at herself in the mirror while “practicing her speech”, making sure to play with her hair all over and show off her polished nails, because she’s beautiful. Meanwhile, her boyfriend couldn’t help but flex his muscles. After all that fairytale teenage drama stuff,

they were totally going to have the best reality show audition tape in the world. Then they were steps from stardom!

Stars

Holly Hancock

“It’s green”. I mumbled, flipping it over in my hand a few times. “Why is it always green?”

“What did you expect?”

I look up at the sudden intrusion, shocked to see

a leprechaun puffing on a long thin pipe, a halo of emerald-colored smoke circling his head. "D'ye think we make ruby slippers for the faerie folk?" he said. "Wait," I stuttered, "Did you say faerie folk?" He nodded, "To be sure, lassie. Why d'ye think ye got them peculiar ears?"

“Thanks, little guy,” I thought. “Now you’ve made me self-conscious about my ears.”
I took a deep breath. “So just what is it you ARE here to do?”

" Give this letter to Santa". Tell him Emma sent you. I'm a elf he said. The boy said ok and

took the letter to the ninth circle of Hell. Which is just about the complete polar opposite of the North Pole. “H-here’s a letter for you sir,” the elf said to Satan Claws, “hey hold on isn’t it a little too hot-“ “Looks like you fell into my trap!” boomed the Wordplayer. Oh no!

“Sir, this is a postal uniform. Waterproof, wind proof, stain resistant, permanent press, of course. But also resistant to fire, brimstone, magic spells, golem grips, and demon claws. Your letter is delivered, good afternoon!” With that, he walked back to the ferry dock.

Your Letter is Delivered!

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Matthew S

Benedek Tóth

Once upon a time, there were three smart soldiers, by the name of Benedesk, Bendegoose and Armin. They were called upon by the Ukrainian army to save the day..

Turkish

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ummmm what hairdresser celebrity paleontologist personal trainer knife thrower ogre mayor mayor mayor mayor mayor

.” Dr. Hamill continued writing notes. “This word association exercise is designed to find real world signposts to guide you through the healing process. What other feelings have you felt as part of this traumatic experience?”

“Fear, anger, hate, suffering…” I went on listing every single feeling that went through me at that fateful moment while Dr. Hamill furiously scribbled on his clipboard. “Interesting.” “Huh?” “I know someone who went through these exact same feelings.”

I looked over at Dr. Hamill & all that I saw was a mirror. "Have I been talking to myself this whole time?" My reflection nodded.

Word Association

Joshua Allen

I saw her. She was right there. I lost it.

She wanted it, but I didn't have it anymore. She asked where it was. I lied. I said that you had it, that you took it from me. Now she's looking for you.

So, yeah. I sold you out. It was not my finest moment, to be sure. Hey, I was scared. But at least I’m telling you ahead of time. You can have a plan for when the lady with a flaming sword knocks on your door. Me? I’m headed for Antarctica.

Hey man don’t get mad me maybe you shouldn’t never done that now the lady the with flaming sword is about to punish you plus the only reason why i sold you out i wasn’t trying to end up like the rest of y’all honestly i will send you a postcard when get to antarctice

,” Jules said breathlessly.
“Jules,” Barbara said in reply. “Calm down and take your meds. You’re obviously having one of your manic episodes.”
Jules didn’t listen, so he got up out of bed, then began to run toward the door, only to trip on his blanket and knock himself out.

“It’s for the best this way,” Barbara said glancing at the ever present camera in the corner. “If their mind questions too much before the procedure it makes the transfer more complicated.” She hoisted Jules up onto the bed, unlatched the wheels, and pushed him out into the hall.

Lost

Leyre g

Tracie+L Mauriello

The plane was crashing. I didn't know what to do.

All the people desperately got out of the plane, a part of the wing started to burn. All the tranquillity that we thought was going to stay together with our travel, was also burnt. I looked for him through all the people outside the plane...

But I couldn’t find him anywhere. I asked the other survivors if they saw the imp during the flight too. When I described him in detail, they brought me to this institution. That was 23 years ago, I think. No one believes me.

"I believe you," I hear the doctor say. I look up & stare at her face. Her yellow eyes twinkle behind her thick bangs, and her thin, red lips curl at the corners. "You!" I cry. She laughs, "Me!" She's the imp from the plane! "Don't worry, baby," she says. "I have a plan!"

She took a hypodermic needle from a bag I remembered seeing in the overhead compartment. Before I had a chance to protest the needle was in my arm. My head began to tingle and my pulse quickened. I hadn’t felt like this since I was in Special Forces.

I decided to punch her. What I hadn't considered was that she would immediately explode. As the human shrapnel ended my life, I found just a nanosecond to consider only one thing...

plane crash

Leonard Gaya

Lana Johnson

Deni Dyx

Once upon a time, there was this little girl

who was very little indeed. So little was she that no one seemed to notice her very existence. Even her mother hadn’t been aware of her pregnancy — the tiny little girl had been born when her parents were fast asleep.

Now this is a fairy tale, so she was born fully able to walk & talk. She marched her half-inch self right out of bed & into the garden. The light of the moon shone blue over the yard. There she saw a cricket, chirping a sad song. "Hello," said the tiny girl. "What's your name?"

“Why I’m Legther Vandross, little girl! Don’t you recognize me? I used to fill cricket amphitheaters in my day. Now I’m just chirping the blues.”

She looked at him with disappointment. She’d never seen a has been up close. “Will you play something for me?” she asked, mostly out pity. Monsieur Vandross looked up with a glint in his eye.

He strummed his most popular tune, but stopped midway. He hated it. It had been popular for so long, he just didn’t want to play it anymore. He stood up, and played something new. Something from his heart. And a new fan was born.

The Cricket's Comeback

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Devin Johnson

"I'm late again!" Karen yelled from across the house as she chipped away at the melted crayons that had been left to cool in the waffle maker.

Managing a bed and breakfast with three rug rags running around proved more challenging than anticipated, Karen thought to herself. Finally, the pumpkin spiced waffles were ready. Karen rushed them to her guests. “Here you go Magda and Terrance,” she said to her demanding guests.

That’s right: Rug Rags. Three for one deal on the home shopping network. They are nice area rugs that automatically clean up spills. That’s how they’re supposed to work, at least.

There was, however, a spill that even the Rug Rags couldn't clean up. My sister doesn't like me to talk about it, but one day we were playing "gardener & bee" in the living room, & she decided to hook the garden hose up to the bathroom faucet. You can imagine what happened next.

It sprayed everywhere. I was soaked. I waanted to yell at her but i also was having fun so i decided to.....

grab my bathing suit and flamingo floaty. As I lounged my mind wandered. This should be commercialized! The next year I opened the town’s first combination water park nightclub with splash pad: Flight of the Flamingos—Trouble at the Soak of Midnight. I was taken care of forever.

The Wetness

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Michael Stiehl

Emily J

Do not go gentle into that good night. Do not go violent into that bad day. Do not run in the halls. Do not eat toothpaste. Do not kiss grandma with your eyes closed. Do not use the word irregardless. Do not seek the treasure. Do not use all the hot water before I take my shower.

"What's wrong with Gramps?" Bobby thought to himself "I just asked for some milk for my sugar snaps and he says all that?!" Bobby folded his arms and stared at his bowl of dry cereal. Things with Gramps weren't working out. Somebody had to do something.

Finally the idea hit the little brat. "Oh, I could get up, go to the fridge, and get the milk myself. Ok, I'll do that then." Bobby was used to being waited on, but he realized it wasn't that hard to pour milk into his own cereal. "Wow. i guess Gramps was right!"

As Bobby ate his cereal, he tried to think of more things he could do by himself instead of waiting for Gramps. “I could set the table. Walk the dog.” He realized he needed to set his sights higher. “Ride my bike in the road. Trampoline into the pool. Skateboard down the roof!”

So he took his trampoline and moved it to the pool and started jumping. Water was going everywhere but a handsome jalepeno gathered...

around the human. “Stop!” the jalapeño sheriff shouted. “Look at the mess you’ve made.” The human guiltily rolled off into the water. “Please continue,” the spicy pepper said to the rest of the pepper guests, who carried on merrily, ignoring the brat who’d disrupted their fun.

Bobby, Gramps, & the Jalapeño Sheriff

Zoe Becker

Jerry glanced down at the photograph in his hand, then back up again at the woman sitting alone at the back of the cafe.

He knew who she was. It was his mother. He walked up and said, "Hi my name is jerry. You are my mom.

All at once a blinding light coursed through the space. Jerry and the woman froze. And then a creature appeared, seemingly from the air itself.

it was a clown. jerry was scared of clowns ever since he was 2 years old. He was at a birthday party

Emma Mazzucco
@emmamazzucco4

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Emma Mazzucco@emmamazzucco4

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