Angry Son by Indian Summer

        It was the only thing to calm him down.  Jack could get so angry sometimes.  His mother never understood why.  She only ever wanted him to do his best, so it surprised her that his best was never good enough for Jack.
        When it got bad, Jack would just listen to his music. One song in particular would sooth him, a momentary pause in his tantrum, like a two year old who stops screaming, because after so long they forgot why they were so upset in the first place.  That kind of music worried his mother, but there was no use to reprimanding her baby boy.  She was always so tired from working 12 hour days, and had already punished him for listening to this other band, “I Hate Everything…” or something.  In fact, she yelled at him so much, she almost felt bad, although she knew there was a point to be made.  She loved him so much.

 

~~Story by Ian Russell

Smoke on the Horizon

       Molly paces around the custom muscle cars and tricked-out pickup trucks. She hides from the scowling mourners smoking cigarettes on the wide front porch. With a shaking hand, she swipes pale pink lip gloss across her cut lips. Angelic voices sing of love and righteousness. Of course, his mother had hired a choir.

        Molly touches the bruises barely hidden by the makeup. A tomcat leaps onto her brother-in-law’s car, rubbing its butt on the “Chicks, Not Dicks” window decal. Its swishing tail tickles her nose. She scratches its head and watches smoke escape the funeral home’s ugly metal chimney. Her Hindu grandmother believed the funeral pyre’s smoke was the glorious release of a soul. Molly feels her own soul rising, stretching beneath the stiff, black dress. She drops her cheap wedding band in the dirt and follows the old tomcat toward the road.

~~ Story by Kelly Anelons

You can follow her on twitter@kellyanelons

Five Sentence Fiction: Strength

Here is my entry for this week’s Five Sentence Fiction

       It’s been three weeks and it has gotten so bad that he wished he could kill himself. He spent the days subconsciously chewing on pens, twisting it between his fingers, sucking on the plastic cap. He spent nights half awake, taking deep breaths, smelling the memory of it in his nostrils.

       Tuesday morning he walked outside and lit one up. It took him all the strength in the world to watch it burn to ashes before he stomped it out.

~~ Photo and Story by Xiao Niu

Dog Gone

 

       BARK! BARK!BARK! “Shut up why don’t you just shut up?” Donny thought as he lied in bed and stared at the ceiling. He was being driven mad by his roommate’s dog. It had been a month since the hell-hound arrived and every day it’s behavior got exceedingly worse. Tearing up his stuff, snapping at him, GRRRRRR…. tossing over the trash can, attacking the neighbor’s cat, stealing his dinner from the kitchen table, humping his leg; and the most heinous, unforgivable offense: barking unprovoked at all hours of the night relentlessly without remorse, without respite, without any sort of decency, tormenting Donny, leaving him awake and sleep deprived. Weary and tired, listening to the beast wail away undeterred again, he hatched a plan.

        The next day before his roommate got home, Donny went into his room and peed on the bed. He kept this up for a week hearing nothing… wondering if his roommate had an unwavering high tolerance for piss soaked sheets. On the final fateful day his roommate got home after an exhausting week of work and went into his bedroom and closed the door. “Jesus Christ, that’s it!” came blaring out from behind the door. His roommate came out with the hound in tow, “Yo, I’m getting rid of Iron Mike. Sorry dude, I know you love him.” Donny sat in silence as his roommate took the dog and left. He went to bed that evening thinking what a shit he was as he dozed off with a smile on his face for his first good night’s sleep in over a month.

~~ Story by Steve E. Normal

Burnt

        It was their third date. They went bowling and stopped by a pizza place afterwards. Ed held the door open for her when they got to his apartment. The candles and the soft jazz music was a little cliche, but she went along with it.

        The next morning, over coffee and bacon, Ed asked if she had anything planned for the weekend. She lied and said she had to catch up on work. The conversation ended there. While Ed was driving her home, she looked over at him and wondered if he would look good in a leather jacket. She didn’t think he would.

~~ Photo and Story by Xiao Niu