Fresh snow crunched beneath Luke’s boots on his unsteady circuit around the yard. Suddenly, the ground gave way, and he tumbled forward plunging his hands into the powder. Cold shot through his arms, and as he struggled to stand tears welled up.
Maybe mom was right. Maybe mittens weren’t such a bad idea after all.
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Three men stood across from the President, two wearing gray suits and the third a heavily decorated uniform. Eyes shut, the President plotted the next moves in the real-life chess game before him.
Opening his eyes, he nodded to the General and then picked up the red receiver on his desk. “Get me Khrushchev.”
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This story comes from Alex Perry. Thanks, Alex!
“You killed him!” Sara screamed. A body lay lifeless on the floor.
“I can fix it I promise,” her mother pleaded.
“No you can’t. He is Dead,” she replied through tears.
“I know I can just let me.”
“Fine,” Sara agreed. Her mother picked up the doll and started sewing.
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The animal was as tall as Luke, and it roared out in a lone, deep call before leaping onto the blue couch in a single step. Luke was awed. Wobbling over, he gently lay his head on the animal’s soft shoulder and wrapped his arms halfway around its barrel chest.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“En-reeee!!!!”
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Grox strode on dragging his lunch bundle along the dusty road. He didn’t mind. It seemed fitting for a sandwich.
He stopped. The sign above him indicated Bigton to the left. Looking back he said goodbye to his past. Putting one small green foot in front of the other he continued toward the man-city.
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Sounds of what could be easily mistaken for elephant polo rumbled up the stairwell and into the darkened bedroom. Mom imagined the dreadful state of things: dishes to ceiling, half-eaten sandwiches lurking under the couch; untold toys strewn about.
She rolled over, her stomach dandy, determined to extend her respite just a little longer.
Four girls sat on the merry-go-round playing a clapping game, while a group of boys played football in the field nearby. They were unaware that one had blond curls, another a sandy brown bob, and the last two neatly braided corn rows.
A man awoke from his nap. Across the street children laughed and played.
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“No more lies, I swear, we went to Jimmy’s, got bored playing poker and went to the pub for a drink. What’s the big deal?”
“When did Jimmy change into a blonde woman then? Between his house and the pub? In the toilets?”
She stared coldly at him and he knew his game was up.
This story comes from Lindsey Henke. Thanks, Lindsey!
Tommy held the lifeless creature in his hands. His eyes lit up as he bit off its head. It’s always fun to remove the appendages first then devour the body. He took a swig of milk to wash it down.
“That’s disgusting!” said his sister, watching him finish his gingerbread man. She was lactose intolerant.
This submission comes from Michelle Manthey. Thanks, Michelle!
1 A.M. One dark hallway. One nurse, at One reception desk. One dripping IV. One last breathe. One monitor goes off. One mans time is up. One check. One phone call. One long haul. One stray tear. One goodbye. One more bed for another One dead.
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