Formal submissions are accepted and posted quarterly. Next submission deadline: December 1, 2012. Submission guidelines here.
For previous submitted works, please visit the old eZine site.
When I came to, I recognized where I was: Mike Milligan's, the pub where I had died one year earlier. My friends and I gathered for the first of what we had planned to be many death anniversary parties. Mike, the owner, decked out the bar in black and yellow streamers and balloons, and passed out black party horns and yellow hats. The yellow in the streamers and hats were an homage to my pallid skin complexion at death, after I knocked my head against the bar rail and fell to the floor. The black, of course, memorialized my passing. I now stood directly over the spot where I passed away.
The clock on the wall read eleven minutes before eleven PM; eleven minutes before the exact time of my demise. Mike came out from behind the bar, stood on a chair beside me, silenced the room, and addressed the crowd.
“As many of you know, we are commemorating the death of our good friend, Max Everett, who is standing here beside me. For those of you who do not know Max, he was a loving and devoted compadre, and a kind, giving, and jovial man. He still is.
“Max, in the ten or so minutes before the countdown to eleven, can you inform those of us here who are not familiar the circumstances regarding your death.” Mike stepped off the chair, and I took his place.Continue
Works from the Creativity Cafe are written using prompts in the AAWG's 1-1/2 hour creative writing meeting. These works are unedited first drafts and may be unfinished. Creativity Cafe works are updated monthly.
Prompts involved using one or more of five pictures.
People think I’m a repair man. They have for over a hundred years. So I carry the antiquated tools and wear the shabby lab coat. Staying anonymous makes it easier to do my real job.Continue
I hate Mondays. Every Monday starts another 40 hour work week of hygiene testing. I'm sixty-three years old, a widow, and the only contact I have with men are their armpits. What does that say about me?Continue
FRANK: Stand in front of the car. I want to take your picture.
FRAN: Don't take my picture. I look awful.
FRANK: Naw. Just stand in front of the car.Continue