Adults

Moan Alone by Dj (a Short Story Contest entry)

You like lines, I prefer designs, like a spiral in a spiral, or a box within a box, over hills and over clover, over sticks and over rocks and over and over and over and over all over the summer and fall, and it just keeps getting higher, it's already way too tall, and you squeeze by trees and wheeze and sneeze and you allergies put you in disease and that's not to mention the doggone bees, when you home and you moan alone. The dogs are rude, when you moan alone where they just pooed. Oooooh, I think I got someone my shoe.

A Woman by Priti Kandlur (a Short Story Contest entry)

She is amazing with many feathers in her cap. Everyone wonders how she does it all and still smile. Its ok if she falters from time to time or needs a break for herself. Because she is beautiful with all her imperfections & we love her just the way she is. She is a mother, a sister, a wife, a friend, a professional. She is all that and more. She is a woman.

Untitled by Eileen M. Regen (a Short Story Contest entry)

There was no fuss that Saturday morning, Alex had just come downstairs. Lawrence was standing at the front door with his friend Liam. My Father was in the scullery washing his breakfast dishes. " I'm going now " I said to him . He nodded but didn't say a word, he continued washing his dishes. I said goodbye to Alex Lawrence and Liam, and I hurried to the waiting taxi . I was going to America.

The Conversation by Lily Frances (a Short Story Contest entry)

"I was sorry to hear about your wife's passing."

"It's still hard for me to realize she's gone."

"I was lost when my husband died."

"How long ago did he die?"

"A year now. Although it seems longer."

"Does it get easier with time?"

"Some days are still hard."

"I still haven't packed up her clothes."

"You won't be alone for long."

"Would you like to go to lunch?"

Second Generation by Sara Ullman (a Short Story Contest entry)

Decades ago I attended a Second Generation group for the children of Holocaust survivors. Our gruesome legacy, woven into the fabric of each family, bonded us.

At age eight, my mother escaped Vienna on the Kindertransport, an organized effort to rescue the innocent children of Europe from the horrors of Nazi persecution. She was eventually orphaned.

Although we hadn’t personally experienced the Holocaust, it was indelibly imprinted on our psyches.

World of My Dreams by Priti Kandlur (a Short Story Contest entry)

“Mom, did you hear the news about the school shooting?”

My heart skipped a beat & I hugged my young, scared child. I prayed for all those who lost their loved one. I prayed for the world of my dreams, where there is no violence, no war, no weapons and no greed. Everyone just loves and respects one another. Somewhere over the rainbow, my dream world exists. It has to.

Beat the Odds by Priti Kandlur (a Short Story Contest entry)

Emily was walking briskly, enjoying the rare morning sun on her face. The smile on her face was genuine. Her little shop with books from all around the world was finally doing well. The quaint village where she lived had supported her dreams. After losing both her parents at a young age, she had relied on the kindness of her community who had helped her rebuild her life & beat the odds.

4,378 by Christina Shaker (a Short Story Contest entry)

I always believed time travel existed and I was on a mission to prove it. I was finally ready to test my invention and stay in my youth forever. I fired it up, loud noises and explosions of light surrounded me until all I saw was black. Finally, I had arrived into the future! I marked this entry 4,378, the days I’d been stuck here.

Dreaming in Deli by M'EL (a Short Story Contest entry)

I dreamed that I was in an intensive care unit. I heard the doctor say “We are running out of treatments”. “Although this is still an experimental therapy, perhaps an egg cream infusion using an IV will work.” “It is worth a try”, but there was a critical shortage of Fox’s U Bet. The last words I heard before awakening were “maybe pastrami poultices with mustard will be a cure”.