It’s a fickle thing, time. It dawdles when you wish it would get a move on and rushes past when you’re trying to race it. I often wonder if biology is related to time. No-one ever seems to be as old as they would like to be; children want to be adults, adults want to be children. On the rare occasions people feel they are just the right age that satisfaction seems to be short-lived.

the Red Queen
pauses for breath
he won’t stand beating

David J Kelly

My coworkers have already abandoned their cubicles, headed to the company canteen for lunch. In an attempt to get a leg up on the week’s crunch, I tap away at my terminal. Out of nowhere, my boss stands just inside the partition. He flashes a crooked smile, licks his lips. I try not to notice where his hand lingers, look back at my screen, cold stare, say nothing. He mutters something about a managers’ meeting, turns on his heel, lumbers off in a huff.

a rock
and a hard place
no office party

Theresa A. Cancro

In grey goo scenarios, nanobots might replicate [willy-nilly], seizing control of both water supply and bloodstream, causing the average citizen to feel “I’ve been reduced to an accident.”

why carry an umbrella
in the night
when your body belongs to no one, anymore

.

Source: FutureForAll.org
A Layperson’s View of Future Technology and Society
http://futureforall.org/nanotechnology/nanobots.html

Kyle Hemmings

After my mother and sister died from a disease the wind blew in from ghost towns, the same white dress they both wore, in different eras, stood in the closet, as if a life of its own. I remember my sister wearing that dress while holding a prayer book, her mouth open, reciting a psalm with the congregation or pretending she was. At night, I imagined the dress freeing itself from hangers, hovering over me. I could feel it breathe. I could hear it whisper. When I worked up the courage to open my eyes and light a candle, I sat next to the old Singer machine and stuck stitching pins into my legs, just to see if I were really awake.

an unclaimed child
walks solemnly into church each Sunday
mouth open to receive The Word

Kyle Hemmings

no more surprise prize, a ring, anything, in the cracker jack box, the original junk food. no, you’ll have to settle for a code on your phone that gives you a lame game to chew on.

sailor jack
and his dog bingo
POP UP

Theresa A. Cancro

Michael Rehling