McDonaldsson Publishing LLC Hattie Bloomberg, Editor 1336 N. Norbert Ln (555) 555-0202 hattiebl0om999@mdpc.com February 15, 2093 Dear Ms. Herrera It is with heavy regret that we have to reject your manuscript, Tempeh Toddy: A BBQ Book of Regretful Meals Made While Drunk (a Satirical Memoir of My Mistakes). While well written, it is not the best fit for McDonaldsson Publishing. Best of luck in your future publication endea...

“I don’t know what to say.” “Sure you do.” “But Janie, this time is different.” “Understood. I get that.” “It’s harder. It’s personal.” “It’s always personal,” Janie replied. “You’ve told me that multiple times. Everything ever written is personal. And the more personal, the better the result.” “But this time is different.” “Nathan, you’re repeating yourself. Verbatim, for God’s sake. Not a good look for an accomplished w...

The ringtone on my cell phone chimed. It was a message from Paul, my new boyfriend. It was strange calling him a boyfriend. I’ve known him for some two years as simply a ‘friend.’ Actually, it has only been a few weeks since that first kiss on the frozen shore of Royal Lake and the beginning of this budding relationship. It was going to take a little bit longer to get used to referring to him as ‘boyfriend.’ My mind brief...

It was now three months since Tom and Sam had started dating and six weeks since I'd first hooked up with Pete. Tom and Sam were falling deeper in love and spending more time together, though mostly at his place as it was larger and had the spa. When I wasn't away with work, I was spending time at his place too - albeit in the annex at night and our friendship was growing too. While I was enjoying the attention, and actio...

The door frame propped up Momma, and she watched her little girl kneel beside the bed. Tiny fingers steepled as she prayed, “Dear Santa. Hi, it’s me, Lulu Mae. Some don’t believe, but I know you’re real. I think I’ve been mostly good this year, so I’m asking you to fix the uglies Momma gets upset about. Amen.” She jumped up and then crinkled her face in thought before abruptly plopping back down to her knees. Squeezing he...

When they met, he never imagined his life would be so full of love. Though his wife has autism and moderate cerebral palsy, oftentimes acting much younger than her biological age to the point where she sees him as her one and only protector, he loves her unconditionally. To anyone else, they probably seem like a strange match, but neither of them care. He does his best to shield her from the questioning looks and hateful...

That November night, Mira would later learn, went down in history. It seemed normal enough as the nuns tended the various children in the dormitory. But before they could even get to sleep, the noises from the heart of the city began. Mira thought she heard a window breaking, then another, and very quickly, more windows were breaking. Then, a rifle shot, was it? Mira sat up in bed and saw some of the other girls doing the...

That Thursday, all pupils were called into the minor-hall in the convent, where the Mother Superior, her voice cracking occasionally, told them that under a decree from the German High Command and with immediate effect, the Roman Catholic nuns would no longer be allowed to teach them. She added, “Apparently, we are not capable of following the Aryan policy. Whatever that may be.” Ominously two men in black uniforms stood...

It was 1938 and Mira Wurtz, eleven years old, loved to eavesdrop the gossip of the customers in the grocery store where she bought the weekend bread and milk for her busy Grossmama (grandmother), Jana Kanner. Here in the city of Vienna, talk, for a long time, had been full of despair involving the cost of living, and work prospects for the future. But recently, a new word had crept into conversations. That word was ‘Ansch...

Morning stiff air flowing through a heap of dense trash, segregating the bygone needles with broken glass pipes. Coiling and cycling by the strong gusts, a garbage and substance whirlwind, revolving the matter of excesses rubbish. Consuming in the wake, a life forgone from civility, inhibited from our perceptions, senses and dialogues. Exiled in plain sight, an afterthought, useless as a fax machine in the 21st century. N...

Sandra and Melanie were talented thespians. Way beyond good; no one had realized they were the best actors in the whole damn school. Melanie was such a chameleon, not even Sandra had twigged to Mel’s self-nomination for leading actress in a goth part. Sandra, though, had the more challenging role. Yet, Mel never asked herself if Sandy, acting like St Theresa’s Catholic School head girls have always acted, was an example o...

Getting up to the attic is a chore these days. Hell, some mornings just getting out of bed is a chore. Still on the right side of the lawn though, which is something. So full of history up here. The weight of it lies heavy on my shoulders at times. Featherlight at others. Dusty boxes labeled with memories line the walls. Lone bulb flickering, doing its best to keep the light going. I know how it feels. Grampy used to come...

My name is James Briggs, and I have a story to tell. My life was changed forever by a set of carefully chosen words, spoken in a carefully chosen manner. Those profound words were to influence the path I chose. In life, we all make choices; some of these are wiser than others. Only with the vision of hindsight do we know which was which. My story begins after I left university. Actually, I couldn’t wait to leave universit...

The lake called him from uncertain dreams at dawn. Today was the day. He awoke. Frost covered the edges of the windows. Through the clear glass at the center of the pane he saw the snow still blowing hard. Its vehemence contrasted sharply with the warm calm of the bedroom. He kissed his wife as she lay sleeping, petted the cat, then slipped out of bed as quietly as he could. The cat joined him as he put on his slippers, p...

She thought it but dared not speak. Marie leered at her daughter instead. She loved Tammi, but at that moment, Marie didn’t much care for her. Her child’s actions angered her. They embarrassed her. They reeked of weakness, failure, and regret. “Why, Biscuit?” Marie asked her daughter’s dog. The powder puff of a Pomeranian tilted her head after hearing her name, but dutifully remained on Marie’s lap, on guard and waiting....