A Day in Jackson’s Life

Copyright -Renee Heath

Copyright -Renee Heath

“Mornin’, Jackson!” Mr. Pears waved at me.

“Hello, Mr. P-P-Pears…”

“Hey Jackson, what do you think of my pirouette?” Trix beamed.

I smiled. “You’re getting b-b-better each day.”

Same thing happens every morning when I walk to school…

After crossing the street, I looked back at the rubble of destruction where Bidwell Exchange had been.

Mr. Pears waved at me again with the scorched stump where his arm had been.

And Trix smiled at me in her soot-stained tutu, jaw melted and teeth exposed halfway up her cheek.

I kept walking, saddened and frightened as their envious gazes followed me.

© 2013 K.Z. Morano

Birds and Bees

Copyright - Jennifer Pendergast

Copyright – Jennifer Pendergast

The stream sang

a wet love song.

Evening blossoms exhaled

into the breeze,

creating fragrances

that felt like muffled laughter…

I remembered

awkward lessons

about the birds and the bees

and shy confessions

of my inexperience

met by a chorus of giggles.

Ice Princess,

they’d tease.

That night,

I lay on the grass,

listening to his skin

hiss against mine…

The moon waxed

and waned

with our breathing.

The coldness within me

broke

like an icicle.

Dawn came

to find us like that,

perfectly entwined

and bathed

in lavender delirium.

For once in my life,

I’m glad I waited.

© 2013 K.Z. Morano

Shooting Up

Copyright - Douglas M. MacIlroy

Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

Shooting Up

Listened to the rain tap, tap, tapping on my windowpane…

Old, young, dead or living, the heavens piss on us just the same.

My trembling fingers, tap, tap, tapping on the syringe…

The trouble with people is that they care. ‘til they don’t.

The rain stopped. Somewhere, a rainbow shimmered into being. Couldn’t care less.

Then they came…After all… tap, tap, tapping on my door…

Just like that, the world was jarringly bright.

Too late.

Could hear my own teardrops tap, tap, tapping on my bedroom floor…

My soft sigh shattered into silence…

No blue skies up here. Only darkness.

© 2013 K.Z. Morano

Mary, Mary

Copyright -Anelephantcant

Copyright -Anelephantcant

Mary always waved at me as she rattled along on her shiny bicycle.

Mary, Mary, everyone loved Mary…

Quite contrary. Always, I’d hope that she’d fall flat on her face.

Would’ve loved to have that face…

Bicycles are shit. But I would’ve loved one.

Not everyone had doting dads to teach them how to ride a bike, you know…

Everyday she’d pass by, hair streaming behind her like a golden kite.

Come to think of it, I’ve never even flown a kite. But I would’ve loved to.

Was it me? Did I run her over?

Nope.

Would’ve loved to, though.

© 2013 K.Z. Morano

Seeking Immortality

Copyright – Randy Mazie

Copyright – Randy Mazie

Gravestones stood like frozen sentinels, watchful of the unknowns entombed underneath. The goat tethered to the tree gave a nervous bleat as it halted abruptly upon reaching the limit of its rope. That’s how the dead must feel like, he mused, bound to the vicinity of burial as their memories and mortal forms dissolve into dust. It was almost impossible to think, let alone write in the cemetery but everything reminded him of what he didn’t want to become– dead, forgotten… stuck in the hood. With fresh resolve, he concentrated his thoughts on his first novel– his ticket to immortality.

© 2013 K.Z. Morano

Growing Pains

hey guys!

it’s officially 12 midnight here. that means I’m a year older ^^ so before you comment, don’t forget to wish me a happy birthday! 😉 xo

Copyright - David Stewart

Copyright – David Stewart

Growing Pains

The echolalia of ghostly birds faded into a merely remembered rhythm, a phantom of a sound… Sadly, I wondered whether our relationship would suffer the same fate. We’ve let the stubborn vines of juvenile affection grow around each other in such a way that we thought would bind us forever. But as we climbed on that fictional ladder towards our individual dreams, we felt our childhood move away from us like the small town below. We sat on the rooftop to meet the purple dawn, wrapped in each other’s embrace- terrified of the future, excited about college and sad about us.

© 2013 K.Z. Morano

Stop, Look and Listen

copyright - Indira by way of Scott Vanatter

copyright – Indira by way of Scott Vanatter

Stop!

A nursery rhyme was playing in the car…

Look!

That’s me on the bed…not dead, but I wish I were.

And Listen!

Should’ve listened to my husband… should’ve never insisted on driving…

Stop!

I tried to… but it was too late…

Look!

Blood trailed down my thighs in slow crimson rivulets…

And Listen!

The night swallowed my screams.

Beep!

Goes the life monitor… No! Don’t try to wake me.

Beep!

Please, just let me die. I need to be with my baby…

The small jeep…

It’s coming to take me… to my baby… Oh, but so much blood…

…is running down the street.

© 2013 K.Z. Morano

hi 🙂 i hope you’re familiar with the nursery rhyme ^^ i’m sooo behind in reading the stories from last week. just really busy but i’ll try to catch up!! thank you. ^^ xo

Time

copyright managua gunn

copyright managua gunn

Time

Before, I thought too that time was real… as solid as the ground beneath my feet. I counted seconds, hours and days as though I could see them with my very eyes. I was so sure of its existence. And so it went that I allowed myself to be rushed by the minutes, seasons and years that I felt my life falling around me and slipping through my fingers as quickly and as surely as rain. Had I known better, I would’ve measured it differently… through smiles and kind words and the people who found their way into my doorstep.

© 2013 K.Z. Morano



The Fool

Copyright -John Nixon

Copyright -John Nixon


“It wasn’t easy being the fool… I walked in on them… My wife and my bestfriend. Rand was just teaching me to play, she said. Couldn’t see them but damnit I could smell it on them! Oh I laughed, said it sounded funny, like someone was playing the piano with their ass… and like the fool that I was, insisted that he stay for dinner.”

“So you put cyanide in their drinks?”

“Yes.”

It wasn’t cyanide.

The man’s blind, innocent, a fool …a father.

That time, I wished I were a fool too.

“Your teenager… Where was she that night?”

© 2013 K.Z. Morano



Meeting Eugenia

Copyright – Sarah Ann Hall

Copyright – Sarah Ann Hall


The light I carried illuminated the tunnel’s dark walls with a sickly glow.

The only sound, the echoes of my footfalls as I hurried to meet her.

She’s been waiting for a very long time.

I felt it in the air… despair mingled with crosscurrents of rage.

Shapes and shadows coalesced to create her form… wizened, hollow…

I quavered, “Eugenia, my father wanted to say… how sorry he was for not coming that night. But it was my mother that he loved.”

Relief hummed beneath her mournful tone, “I forgive him.”

I watched as she crossed over into the light.

© 2013 K.Z. Morano