Photo copyright: Madison Woods
Emanating from the crackling fire the smell of trout penetrated the air.
Jason finished his third beer, “Henry, I’m so sorry.”
Unable to meet Henry’s eyes, “Hope and I are in love.”
Henry palmed the filet knife. “You’ve been screwing my wife for months and now you’re sorry!”
“We never meant to hurt you.”
In an upward arc the knife permeated Jason’s chest. Henry’s face became pale. “What did I do?”
Jason doubled over in a coughing fit a sucking sound coming from the wound.
With his final breath Jason said, “I forgive you.”
The lack of sleep weighed heavily on Mark Cohen. While elated to be a father, he’d not slept more than two hours in the last three days.
“Mark, call in and get some sleep. You look exhausted,” said his wife Suzy.
“I am, but we need the money.”
While driving down Main Street, his eyes became too heavy and he drifted off. The sounds of a thump and branches being crushed startled him awake.
“Oh crap.” Mark slammed on the brakes and swerved back on the road.
He pulled into the first parking space available to survey the damage.
Photo Copyright: Rochelle Wisaff-Fields
Lisa and Mark boarded their first transcontinental flight to Rome. With wide eyes she sunk into the leather chair. She spoke a mile a minute to Mark about everywhere she wanted to visit. The plane shook then nosedived hours into the flight. The oxygen masks dropped and Lisa gripped the armrests, closed her eyes, and prayed. Relief came a minute later, as the shaking slowed then stopped. The plane climbed and leveled out.
Mark caressed her hand. “It was turbulence. Everything’s fine.”
Lisa stared out the window. Her eyes became heavy and she slept until they landed.
Photo Copyright: Adam Ickes
John exited the hen house, when a loud snort sounded behind him. Fifty yards away stood a large ram of two hundred pounds. He backed up as the ram lowered his head and charged. John raced for the pickup and grabbed the Bushman predator rifle. With the ram now twenty yards away, John knew he would only get one shot. To steady his nerves he let out a controlled breath. The rifle muzzle raised an inch, as the bullet hit above the right shoulder. The ram advanced three feet and fell.
Today, hidden behind boxes is the majestic creature’s head.
Photo Copyright: Kelly Sands
As the day closed and the clouds blanketed the sky, Mike thought an approaching storm would mean fewer witnesses. Using the open window he entered Heather’s bedroom. The alarm clock read six-thirty leaving Mike forty-five minutes to locate the drive. He searched the office, bedrooms, and the kitchen before noticing a book sticking out from the others. Behind it was the drive; placing the book back in position he left the same way he entered. Two blocks away he ordered a coffee and e-mailed his employer. Mike shipped the drive once he verified the transfer of funds.
“Stop, police,” said Sgt. Collins, while he chased the suspect through the fair. The blonde, teenage boy wearing a black jacket, blue jeans, and holding the ticket office moneybox ran though the crowd. He released the brake on an unattended lemonade cart, which started to roll towards a group of children on a field trip. Sgt. Collins only a few yards behind the suspect broke off his pursuit. A girl no older than seven with long black hair, wearing a blue camp shirt, and kaki shorts froze in place, as she watched the cart come towards her. With no time to lose, Sgt. Collins dove in front of the cart getting them both to safety. For his act of bravery the crowd cheered Sgt. Collins, meanwhile the girl ran back to the rest of her class. Moments later a loud bang permeated the fair, as the cart crashed into the metal gate around the Ferris wheel. The balloon vender, former army private first class still suffering from PTSD dove for cover and let go of the balloons. Sgt. Collins looked back towards where he broke off pursuit, only to find Officer Bradley already apprehended the suspect.