Emma Mazzucco

Phil Harwell

Jay Knowles

Sean King

Heaven Bassett

Rietje Becker

Benjamin Chandler

zeej qooj

Jacob Sherman

English

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

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Jason Moody

“You know,” started Morgrimm the II. “You are possibly the most incompetent spy I have yet to employ to aid my empire. I send you to gather intel on the advancing Callanti forces and you return with news of a new coffee shop?”
“Oh you should try the latte master”
“Please leave”

That was not his cup of tea. That, was the second time King Morgrimm the II had to fire someone — on the same day. It seemed that the Galdari prized coffee above everything else, much to the king’s displeasure. The king needed intel on the Callanti invaders, and he needed it now.

“Sire,” spoke Goroth, head of the army. “Is it not true that coffee caves exist on the western frontier? We can use those in our negotiations with the Galdari. I think our Callanti friends will find we are not so weak after all, and they will find trouble when they come looking.”

Goroth waited for agreement. He hated these politics. He watched as the small brains of his peers strained in consideration. Pathetic. Wasteful. Democracy waisted time. His time. His precious time. For now, he’d gift a victory. It was necessary for his salvation, for his legacy.

Goroth rose up and slammed his fist on the table. “Enough of your petty squabbles! There is a war ongoing and all you could do is sit here and argue? I will take charge here, whether you like it or not. Do as I say!” Fascism is a far better alternative in these times.

“Umm, no…” she said, posting a video of his rant to slipslop, instalike, and slamtenna simultaneously. 36 hours later, Goroth the Facist was totally cancelled. Byeeee!

Latte to the Party

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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.

Clearly, she’d lied. Rather than serve insult at this finger overly-priced Crab-shack, he sighed and moved forward. He wouldn’t shame her for the character flaw. This was a case of insecurity, not menace.

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.

With a glance, the thing shifted into a second-hand version of him. The twin sported secret insecurities plucked from his brain. The off-center nose, exaggerated and swollen, throbbed as the memory of a fist to the face surfaced.
He hated mimes.

Heaven Bassett
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Heaven Bassett@heavenbassett

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