Although April 2022 has been a quiet publishing month for our WWS members, they still are consistently sending out their work and publishing in fantastic markets.
I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available) or a blurb if the publication is a book, and a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in April!
Congratulations to Tisha Marie Reichle-Aguilera, whose short story “Flaming Dreams” appeared in Rabid Oak.
After Patrick’s Pub closed, Leticia pulled all her curls into a thick rubber band and scowled at her reflection in the beer mirror. A large grease stain smeared across the middle of her green t-shirt. Damn potato skins. And the customer who ran into her. She wiped the worn wooden tables, fantasized about college in California. She’d rather be there instead of here under the growling yellow lights. But Dad couldn’t afford to pay another server right now. And she still hadn’t heard from the summer program or the financial aid office about her appeal. She saved her tips but worried her dreams were going to disintegrate like the cheap laminate finish of the bar’s ancient furniture.
In addition, Tisha’s microflash “Cuata” appeared in 100Words.
All my life they called me Cuata. But I was the only one born whole. Mi hermano, Juan, never breathed. But I heard him cry. I read stories to his empty chair. And I felt him there. I pushed an empty swing and sang his favorite songs. I planted spiky cactus so he could watch them grow.
Congrats also to Erica W. Jamieson, whose short story “Fat Girl in Crowded Room” appeared in Minerva Rising Press.
I should stand, right? And just start talking? Okay, then. I’m Emily. I should tell you it’s not my first time in group. I mean I’ve been before, a long time ago, in a group, like this. And, well, now I’m back. What else?
Oh, just tell you about last weekend? That’s what we talked about, right? On the phone?
It wasn’t such a big deal, really. About last weekend? You see, I was out with Joseph, my boyfriend, fiancé, sort of, there’s no ring yet, but we’ve been together a while, anyway, we’re sitting at the Congo Coffee House, just north of Santa Monica Blvd, you know the place? We had gone for the reading, the first story was this tortured tale of lost love. It started with a coyote tracking these hikers, it was up in the mountains, the reader kept referring to the brown green hills, like a dozen times. He had one of those monotone voices that make it hard to stay awake, so if it wasn’t for the fat girl… oh, is that okay? Can I say that?