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ScribesMICRO  ​

* * *   Managing Editor: Edward Ahern   * * *
*   Submissions Editor: P.C. Keeler   *
​*   Submissions Editor: P.M. Ray   *

*  Associate Editor: Alison McBain   *

Issue # 13

January 15, 2021
​
Featuring the short scribblings of:
*
John Grey * Bethany Jarmul * Mary Keating *
​
* Leslie Hopper Keeler * Melissa Marie Keeping *
* Alastair Millar * Marlou Newkirk * B.G. Smith *
​
* Phillip Temples * Sally Wagner * Stuart Watson *

​Featured Author

Interview with Melissa Marie Keeping
​​

Welcome to our thirteenth issue of ScribesMICRO. I’m associate editor Alison McBain, and our interview today is with our featured writer Melissa Marie Keeping, whose short story “Otherwise Engaged” is featured in this issue.
​
Melissa Marie Keeping is a writer and mom from Halifax, Nova Scotia. She is the author of the children's book Griffin in the Spring and a regular contributor to ScribesMICRO.
​
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​Melissa, thanks for speaking with me. This is a very engaging story, pardon the pun, and it turns the reader’s expectations upside down. Many of our featured stories and poems give our readers a glimpse into a larger story, and it makes the reader contemplate “what if.” Usually, I would ask what happens next, but I think the ultimate ending doesn’t work out well for Lena. So instead, I’ll ask perhaps a tougher question—how does Patrick recover from this terrible turn of events?

​I think that I am about to reveal how twisted I really am in answering this but I think that this news may have been easier for him to digest than the idea of his lovely fiancée leaving him willingly for someone else. Will he have to mourn her? Of course. But he would have had to mourn her either way and this preserves the image that he had of her and keeps their love alive.

​To untwist the story—and explore an alternate timeline where this tragedy hadn’t happened—do you think Patrick and Lena would have been successful as a couple? In a world where the news is filled with stories of violence, both personal and impersonal, is there a larger message you hope readers walk away with?

I think that Patrick and Lena were supposed to be a successful couple. However, I think we’ve all had relationships that we truly felt were supposed to work out and for whatever reason they just couldn’t. In my mind, Patrick was completely devoted to Lena but I think my answer to the last question shows that I’m even a little wary of that. I hope that readers will assume that Lena was abducted, not that she voluntarily walked away with someone who did this to her. Patrick won’t even consider that as a possibility.


For readers who enjoyed this story, where else can they find more of your writing?

I have become a regular contributor here at Scribes and encourage readers to flip through looking for my stories like "Lost Contact" and "Trapped" and to keep an eye out in upcoming issues! My first children’s book (Yes, I am this twisted and wrote a children’s book. I promise you’ll be surprised!) is called Griffin in the Spring and it is available at Indigo, Amazon, Barnes and Noble and lots of other great places! I’m super friendly on social media—pop by and say hi! @keepingwriting on Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok!
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Photo by Michael Leonard

Fiction
​

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Photo by Kirill Lyadvinsky

Otherwise Engaged
​by Melissa Marie Keeping

​​
Patrick tore open the package to find a small box and a letter. First he unfolded the letter.
​
Patrick,
 
I’m doing you the favor of returning the engagement ring you bought for Lena. She’s mine now. She won’t be needing it anymore.

​Patrick’s eyes burned. He’d been waiting for this moment since Lena disappeared a month ago. He had dreamed of passionate reunions and feared getting 
the call or the dreaded Dear John letter. He hadn’t even considered this.
 
Patrick stumbled to open the small box. Inside was the diamond ring he’d given Lena, still wrapped around her slender finger, red nail polish horribly scratched.

* * *
Melissa Marie Keeping is a writer and mom from Halifax, Nova Scotia. She is the author of the children's book Griffin in the Spring and a regular contributor to ScribesMICRO. Find her on Twitter, Instagram and TikTok as @keepingwriting.​
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​
The Clash
​by Alastair Millar

​​​
Chanting fills the air, taking our fear and steadying us for the contest ahead.
 
I stand with my people, the painted faces and banners of my tribe swaying around me, heads throbbing, bodies running with sweat. Our anger is primal, visceral.
 
Soon now.
 
Our enemy's songs are strange and offensive to our ears; we scream defiance skywards as our champions stand forth.
 
Defeat would break our dreams, bringing unbearable shame and humiliation. But victory here will forge heroes, worshipped as gods among men while their fame spreads across the land.
 
A sudden, pregnant silence falls.
 
A whistle blows.
 
Kickoff!

* * *
Alastair Millar is an archaeologist by training, a translator by trade and a nerd by nature. Married with two adult children, he lives north of Prague, Czech Republic, and enjoys good books, bad puns and travelling. Links to his previously published short fiction can be found at https://linktr.ee/alastairmillar.
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Photo by Sovica

Gray
​by Phillip Temples

​​
I look at the city out of the window of my eighth-floor apartment and see new splotches of gray rot turning up everywhere. Last week, the tree next door was in its fall splendor, sporting magnificent shades of red and yellow. Now it’s completely devoid of color. The same with dogs, cats, and half of the bird population. It’s like all the joy is being sucked out of the world. Scientists shrug their shoulders in resignation when asked what’s going on.
 
I casually wonder about my own fate: the little finger on my right hand has started to turn gray.

* * *
Phillip Temples resides in Watertown, Massachusetts. He's had five mystery-thriller novels, a novella, and two short story anthologies published in addition to over 150 short stories. Phil is a member of New England Science Fiction Association, the Mystery Writers of America and the Bagel Bards. You can learn more about him at https://temples.com.
​

​Father of the Father
​by Stuart Watson

​​​​
Eight months on, she cradled paradox, hands beneath her child to come.
 
A potter at her wetted wheel, she had spun an egg.
 
In a far-off place and time before their time, the father to the father cast his seed into a tube. Taller and pleasant to see, he took his fee.
 
The father and his father put their girl to bed. Laid her in the mother’s lap. They pushed the plunger. Just a tool is all, poking a burr into a dream.
 
He took his family home. Side by side at the stove, they cooked an omelette for three.
​

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Photo by Franck Barske

* * *
Stuart Watson wrote for newspapers in Anchorage, Seattle and Portland. For fun and low pay, he and his wife later owned two restaurants. His writing is in more than thirty publications, including Yolk, Barzakh, MacQueen’s Quinterly, Bending Genres, Flash Boulevard, Revolution John, Montana Mouthful, Sledgehammer Lit, Five South and Pulp Modern Flash. He lives in Oregon, with his wife and their amazing dog.

Vulnerable
​by Sally Wagner

​​​
Vulnerable. He stared at the word. The word stared back at him. Luxembourgish had been declared a vulnerable language.
 
“Twick-ow-tweat!” His daughter’s high-pitched voice awoke him from his trance.
 
She was dressed in black, a smudged cobweb on her face.
 
“Look at you! You are a real witch!” he exclaimed and lifted her onto the counter. Trick-or-treat. The American Liichtmëssdag.
 
“You know what this is called?” he asked, pointing at her face.
 
She pressed her index finger against her cheek, smudging the paint some more.
 
“Cobweb,” she mumbled.
 
“Yes, cobweb! Or Spaweck, in Luxembourgish.”
 
Vulnerable. Vulnerable was not yet extinct.


* * *
Sally Wagner is a student and aspiring writer, living in Luxembourg. Her micros have been published in Microfiction Monday Magazine and 50-Word Stories.​​

Jersey
​by B.G. Smith

​​​
The homeless guy I knew as "Jersey" was gone—only blankets and a shopping cart remained. I left the hot cup of coffee and sausage biscuit on a vacant park bench and drove around town searching for him, only to hear the repeated response: "Haven't seen him in a while."
 
Jersey once told me he served in Afghanistan and saw “some bad shit” and “struggled with civilian life.” His wife left with his daughter a few years ago.
 
I knew the statistics but refused to accept them. Today, I picture Jersey pushing his little girl on a swing in a big backyard. Both are smiling from ear to ear.

* * *
B.G. Smith studied creative writing at American Military University. He enjoys writing flash fiction and drinking coffee, usually at the same time. B.G. is a married father of four boys and a lifelong fan of Philadelphia professional sports teams. His stories have appeared in Friday Flash Fiction, Microfiction Monday Magazine, The Drabble, and ScribesMICRO.
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​Creative Nonfiction
​

​My Constant Companion
​​by Bethany Jarmul
​​​
She doesn’t want me to write. She hates the clutter, chaos of first drafts. She wants the words to come like quarter notes in a playful melody.
 
I spend my hours chained to library chairs, nose to books, lungs barely exhaling beneath the quiet roar of pages turning, fingers typing, brains churning. I sit down with my silver laptop, listen to her scream, “It’s not enough. You’re not enough!” until she’s hoarse.
 
Finally, I cobble together a draft, wink at Perfectionism, and ask, “Isn’t that the messiest, most delicious pile of words?”
 
All she can do is give me the middle finger.
​

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Photo by Steve A. Johnson

* * *
Bethany Jarmul is a writer and work-from-home mom. She lives in Pittsburgh with her family.

Poetry
​


Apple Pie
​​by Leslie Hopper Keeler​​
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* * *
After researching family history for decades, Leslie Hopper Keeler now looks to share stories of her ancestors. While she is known for her apple pies, it is memories of her grandmother Aline and her pies that inspire Leslie to make them and pass along the love.
​
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​This Downpour
​by John Grey

​​
Heavy downpour.
This is never at its best
in a storm.
Puddles everywhere,
ponds in the road,
rivers and creeks
overflowing banks.
Drains are as useless
as a party hat at a funeral.
My umbrella,
no Horatio defending the bridge,
folds at the first strafing.
I get soaked walking two blocks.
And my car balks
where the road’s half-drowned,
like a cowardly horse at a water-jump.
I slosh my way to my front door
to be greeted by my wife exclaiming,
"The flowers are gonna love this."
It’s just like a disaster
to be a gift to some


* * *
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Sheepshead Review, Poetry Salzburg Review and Hollins Critic. Latest books, Leaves On Pages, Memory Outside The Head and Guest Of Myself are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Ellipsis, Blueline and International Poetry Review.​​

​Inexpensive Gadget I Can Not Do Without Is
​by Marlou Newkirk

​​
a vegetable peeler six inches
the length of my hand
with one-half inch serrated blades.
Lickety-split off comes the peel,
the tough, bitter coating of a cucumber.
It makes short work of a carrot until
nothing's left but a carrot twig.
And then in a jiffy there are mounds
of zucchini noodles.
To take the skin off
or not to take the skin off
is a potato lover’s dilemma.
If decide to take off, then will be left with
clean white or sweet orange taters.
 
It is small, but it is mighty.

* * *
Marlou Newkirk is the recipient of five Connecticut Press Club awards. She has just had published a book of poems, This and That and an Ice Cream Sundae: Reflections in Poems from Age 86. She has a doctorate in education from Columbia University.
​​

​Hibernal Solstice
​by Mary Keating

​​​
Shadows invade
his lightness of being
when the sun’s too lazy
to climb very far
above the horizon
 
Amid the holidays’ twinkle
and sparkle, the night
wraps him into
a cyclical cocoon
 
where he will barely eat
barely speak
barely answer
his steadfast wife
 
whose loneliness will flow
into rivers of sorrow
dammed by hope
 
But even hope can’t
hold a constant deluge
 
When he re-emerges
with the energized sun,
he’ll have missed her
little bits of heaven─

the moments of happiness
she’ll craft from emptiness
 
She won’t mention
how her poetry saved
them—each poem
a surrogate sun
​

* * *
Mary Keating is a disabled writer and lawyer with a solo practice in Darien, CT. Her writing appears in New Mobility magazine, Wordgathering, and Medium.com. Mary lives with her husband, Dan and their lab, Sunshine, in Connecticut.
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​The Poets' Salon

​If you're looking for more poetry, including a place to read your work, receive critiques, and explore poetic forms, check out The Poets' Salon. Two editors of ScribesMICRO, Edward Ahern and Alison McBain, run this free poetry workshop.

Meetings take place on the second Saturday of every month from 10 a.m. to noon EST via Zoom. More info, including how to sign up for the poetry workshop, can be found on The Poets' Salon website or via Meetup.

ScribesMICRO  ​

​
​"You can't try to do things; you simply must do them."
─Ray Bradbury


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