To Am-Bush Or Not To Am-Bush – By Jean Blasiar
Flash Fiction / December 28, 2008

In 2005, out of a senior class of 30, Jennifer Torres was one of two voted “Best Debaters of the Year”. The other one was her twin, Sam Torres. Debating had always been a family pastime in the Torres household. Mister Torres had encouraged differing opinions since the children were very young, sometimes to the extreme, at the dinner table. Though never among Mister Torres worst nightmares did he dream that this innocent family pastime would one day split his family in two. That day was January 17th, 2005. Resting on the outcome of Webster High’s annual debate was a one year scholarship to Yale University, the school of the twins’ dreams since they visited the Yale campus as high school freshmen. For the other Torres senior, the one who lost the debate, it would be the affordable State Junior College. The topic of the debate this year, “The Decision to Attack Iraq”, had not been announced until two days before the event, which gave very little preparation time. Worse, Jennifer had drawn the “pro” position. Jennifer, the pacifist, anti-war demonstrator, and founder of the local chapter of Women Against Violence, Etc. (WAVE) suddenly found herself “pro” the decision to…

Body At The Beach – By Christine A. Kirchoff
Micro Fiction / December 28, 2008

*Winner of the SSL Writer’s Forum – Micro Fiction Writing Prompt* The long walk through the park was serene. Coming upon the beach at the bay was even better. I sat for hours at a time here. Watched the waves crash, the boats sail by, my book seemed to always be forgotten and left as I watched the sights. Today however I stumbled across something a bit shocking. A dead body lay in the sand. The blue lips of a beautiful woman that once sprinted upon this earth. Now she was merely fish food or crab food. It was grotesque to be so awed and continue to stare. Then I realized that face belong to someone I knew, my ex wife. Well now, wasn’t this interesting. She was making my life hell and here she is, just corroding away. I left the beach with a skip in my walk. The shirt off revealed my tanned body and hid the slight stain. She always did know how to ruin a shirt. Full of sand and slightly wet, I whistled. If she was ever found she’d be too hard to identify. Some fish bait tied to her and then out to sea….

The Christmas of 1933 – By Grace Gannon Rudolph
Flash Fiction / December 21, 2008

I’m seventy-five-years old and live in a nursing home but I remember 1933 and that week before Christmas as though it was yesterday. Men huddled in empty box cars or stood in breadlines, hobo villages sprang up and hungry people knocked at back doors in search of food. Today people jump out of offices with golden parachutes. Back then people just jumped out of office windows. My parents thought the Great Depression was the beginning of the end. My father was a salesman for Finnegan’s Lumber Company. One day Mr. Finnegan called dad into his office and told him the company couldn’t collect from the builder of a house on Crescent Street. “We’ve taken it over,” Mr. Finnegan said. “If you and the misses want to move in until it’s sold, feel free. Just keep the damn place up. I don’t want squatters movin’ in.” We moved in and dad closed off the upstairs, turned the downstairs into bedrooms, and mother hung blankets in the kitchen doorways to, “keep in the heat.” Less than a week after we settled in for good people began beating a path to our back door to ask for bread or soup. There must have…

Christmas Eve – By Andrew W.B. Smith
Micro Fiction / December 21, 2008

I’m in the top bunk because I’m the oldest and a boy. My sister sleeps in the bottom bunk because she’s a girl and a year younger than me. I’ve got a stone hot water bottle and push it to the bottom of the bed to warm my feet on. Mummy says I’ll get chillblains doing that. My sister hugs her rubber hot-water bottle. I turn over and pull the window curtain to one side. I can’t see out the window because of the frost flowers on the glass. I can’t see out the window.” I whisper. “Why not?” my sister whispered back. “Have a look.” I told her. We kneel on the edge of our beds. She scratches at the frost flowers with her fingernails. I can’t do that very well because I bite my nails. So I melt two holes in the frost and pretend they are binoculars. “What can you see?” asked my sister. “It’s snowing.” I answered “Is it!” “No. I’m only kidding.” I like teasing my little sister. “Has he been yet?” she asks me. I look down the bed at my empty stocking. “No.” “Do you think Rudolph will like the carrot we left…

Rudolf and Rebecca – By stonefly
Flash Fiction / December 14, 2008

“Rudolf, do you love me? Do you really love me?””Of course I love you Rebecca. Oh Rebecca, why haven’t I told you more often? I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…tell me when to stop…I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…” Rebecca laughed with glee. “Don’t stop, don’t ever stop.” “Actually I have to, ‘cause I gotta get back to the North Pole, and the fog’s gettin’ thick enough where even I’m havin’ a tough time of it.” Rudolf shrugged. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” “Yeah…I’ll see you…I guess. That is if I’m still around.” “Aw baby, come on, not that again. I’m doin’ everything I can. I had a talk with the Old Man about that coal in the stocking business, as per your request. He agreed that the way his real estate is shrinking, it might not have been such a good idea” “Really? He really said that?” Rebecca beamed with happiness. “Yeah, and if everything works out alright, lil’ sugar, I’ll have a big surprise for…