Trickin’

by Nicole Givens Kurtz

It’s time. Nestled beneath the rolling peaks from the mountain ranges, honeycombs of caves spread out in their like swollen slugs providing shelter from the weeping clouds. Raoul emerged from one of those caves. He scratched his scalp beneath his thick dreadlocked hair and squinted against the rain pouring across the lands.

The black, whispery rain fell, chasing all indoors, turning the roads further down the city to a glistening dark. Desperation clung to each drop, splattering on the surface. Once, a bustling metropolis existed, but now, only disappointment remained. A hush blanketed everything. Only the rain’s soft drumming resonated throughout the valley, its melody rising up against the thick, humidity.

“Great. Monsoon season.” Raoul, a tall, athletic man, shrugged against the cold rain, bouncing off the trees and splattered onto him. The bleak morning stretched onward, hovering in its gloominess. He adjusted his hood, flexing his feet inside his rain boots. Parts of him felt stiff and others felt foreign. The dark skin held hints of coily hair.

Different.

Yet, different didn’t mean bad, but new. Raoul jumped up and down on the balls of his feet, before hunching back into his sweatshirt. From inside the cave’s mouth, he peered out across the city’s broken landscape of abandoned storefronts, flooded and cracked sidewalks, and gloomy pedestrians. He couldn’t see their faces from this distance, but their bodies spoke for them. Bent over, slow moving, they creeped along in the squall as if their spirits had been drenched with sadness and despair. (Continue Reading…)

The Humbug

By Orrin Grey

Joshua caught it in a glass jar with holes poked in the lid. He came running up to the cabin with it, shouting, “I found a bug! I found a bug!”

“There aren’t any bugs in winter,” Amanda said crossly, though no snow had fallen yet and the trees and ground outside were simply bare and gray. 

When Joshua placed the jar on the big, heavy dining table, however, there was no mistaking that a bug rested on the bottom, lying on its back with its unpleasantly segmented legs folded up toward its abdomen.

“Then it’s dead,” Amanda huffed. 

She was the middle child, and seemed to have reached a stage in her development where she felt the need to compensate for being neither youngest nor oldest by always knowing everything. 

“Or hibernating,” Alice quickly added, having only recently learned that some insects burrowed down into the ground and slept a deathlike sleep through the winter. “Cicadas do it for years and years!” she added cheerily.

But when Joshua tapped on the side of the jar, the bug inside sprang to life like a clockwork toy. Righting itself with a strangely mechanical hop, it scuttled to the edge farthest from where Joshua’s fingertip still rested against the glass.

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Workday

by Kurt Fawver

MEMO

CORIVDAN INCORPORATED

To: All Hourly Employees

From: Human Resources

Subject: Holiday Party Attendance

Date: Nov. 20, 2018

Please RSVP to the holiday party by Friday afternoon. The event will be held the evening of December 21. Our caterers need an exact count of the number of people attending so that we don’t run out of food and refreshments. We will have a buffet-style meal and an open bar throughout the night. Please remember also that attendance at the holiday party is mandatory for all employees.

Thank you, and we look forward to seeing you there.

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