18 MONTEREY COUNTY WEEKLY DECEMBER 25-31, 2025 www.montereycountynow.com expanding and contracting to the water’s slight currents. Arms twisting around her body, her right hovering in front of her left breast, her left to her back. Softened pine needle branches and black muck circled her. The bow moved between us, but she still needed to be fished from the water. The Messenger By Nan Pheatt When we passed the spot on Old Fisherman’s Wharf that had once been a flower seller’s niche, I told my friend about the roses. Mark and I bought red roses there every year during our anniversary getaway to thank my sister for watching our kids. My friend didn’t know what to say to this new detail about my sister’s sad breast cancer story. “I wish she could have seen them grow up,” I added. Fifty paces along, a stranger approached from a pool of sunlight, a red rose in her hand. She placed it in mine silently and hurried off. How? Got the Cheese By Steve Schechter Jacob, a shy 16-year-old, lived in a perpetual slouch. Straight blond hair curtained his lightless eyes, providing a safer place from which to see the world. Believing a car could cure his social deficiencies, Jacob applied for a grocery clerk position to afford one. The manager promised that if Jacob sold a twenty-two-pound wheel of Jarlsberg cheese in one week, he’d be hired permanently. In his white deli jacket, Jacob became upright, confident, and personable. He surpassed his quota, earned the position, and forgot the car. In the maze of teenage life, Jacob already had the cheese. What Will It Be Today? By Vickie Casacca The inevitable tugging, pulling, squirming and clawing. The screaming, at a pitch that could easily break the sound barrier, or my eardrums. The snot, not the light, innocuous kind, but the thick, green, germy kind. The endless, insanely expensive list, that unless you just won the Mega Millions, is never going to happen. The teenage girl, still wearing her flannel pajamas and Uggs past noon, on a dare from her friends. The ankle biter, yipping the entire time, in his holiday-themed sweater, anxious to get back in his stroller. A Santa has to do what a Santa has to do. Alice’s Nickname By Judy Dow It was a known fact. Far and wide, Alice Innsbrook was exceptionally popular. It was no wonder! She was always available and never felt put upon. She was a patient listener, a gifted communicator, non-judgmental, offering advice only if you asked. And, you could ask her anything, tell her anything. There would always be a prompt response. She could light up the day of a troubled teenager, as well as brighten the night of a lonely widow. She never expected anything in return. Everyone felt fortunate to have Alice Innsbrook in their lives. Her nickname was A.I. The Meadow By Kelly Lehrian “Follow” he whispered. Their footfall moving in sync. He pauses as she continues into the meadow, secluded, the air filled with birdsong, light filtering through the trees, green emerging from the Earth. Standing still, her mind blank, reeling in utter disbelief, she feels a comforting warm breath brush the back of her neck. Stepping beside her, a silent witness to the river of tears streaming down her cheeks. Asking him, “Is she here?” Slowly dropping his head, as if in conversation with something unseen. A confirmation of sorts. Reaching out, she gently buries her fingers in his soft mane and sighs. A Rocky Start By Anna Welsh Neill He didn’t know how far it was to the ground, hadn’t been able to stomach the sight for a while. His feet dangled helplessly and his forearms trembled as he desperately clung to the ledge, scrabbling for grip. Face pressed against the rock, his gasping breath echoed in his ears. Fingers slipping, millimeter by millimeter, the strain became too great and the rock seemed to slide away. The void opened below, he lost the hold, screaming “I’M FAAAAAAALLING!!!” “Still on belay!” she called as she lightly lowered him the few feet to the floor. “I thought your profile said you climbed?” The Interview By Carol Roberts Rebecca sat across from the hiring manager, fluorescent light amplifying her blouse stain. “Thanks for coming! Someone quit the 911 desk half hour ago.” “Unfortunate.” “May I call you Rebecca? You do realize you have a bleeding gash on the side of your head?” “Sorry. I was in a car accident on the way but I didn’t want to be late.” “Excellent. Would you say we have about six minutes until you lose consciousness?” “Hopefully.” “Then let’s get started. Your resume says you have two years experience. We’re swamped. You’re hired. Rebecca? Rebecca! Can you hear me? Somebody call 911!” Dusk In The City By Jenissa Ramirez It was a dark night in the city. The lampposts flickered with light as if tired of the darkness. The streets sighed with a faint breeze, and the buildings looked abandoned, their windows dull, sullen. Snow had fallen earlier, leaving the pavement damp and slick beneath my steps. I walked farther—no people, no cars, no stray cats. Only little fluffy crystal flakes drifting down from the clouds, each gleaming strangely, phosphorescent when it hit the ground. I reached home, wiped my feet on the welcome mat, and stepped inside. Then I noticed the prints behind me— they definitely weren’t mine. Cue the Lightbulb By Tara Mann Charlie was tired of waiting for his lightbulb moment. The “I’ve solved world hunger” or “this is the answer to the universe” moment. His mother created worldwide renewable energy. His sister invented a cheap, efficient water purifier for developing countries. His college roommate dismantled the electoral college and political party system to turn the USA into a country to be proud of again. Charlie just didn’t expect an actual lightbulb to come with his. The light glowed around him, swinging on its chain. Charlie trembled, whispering. “That’s it. I finally understand.” “Sorry,” the electrician said, turning off the light. “Wrong wire.” The Gift By Tydus Talbott I dropped the last quarter into my piggy bank. I’d been saving for two weeks. Grabbing the bank, I rushed out, wondering, “Is the general store open today?” My eyes caught a small sign: “Open.” “Yes!” I exclaimed. I bumped into my best friend, who shouted, “Buying the new video game?” “Even better!” Suddenly, there it was, light shining on it. I grabbed it and checked out. Once home, I opened the door. My sister, who’d been sick and still didn’t feel well, asked, “What’s that?” “I got you a baby doll!” Her eyes brightened as she jumped and screamed delightedly. The Intruder By Laurie Bauer The backyard motion light rouses me from an uneasy sleep. Is it that damn stray dog? Or that creepy guy in a hoodie who’s been lurking around the neighborhood? Soon I hear the jiggling of the backdoor knob. Then the creak of the opening door. I hear heavy footsteps climbing the stairs. I reach under the spare pillow for my ex-husband’s gun. I point it at 101-Word Short Story Contest The town was half-lit, and so was he! Lonely swing sets. She looked like someone too bored to blow out a candle. “Coal is out. Turnips are in.” I only hope this won’t lead to wearing slip-in adult diapers, but that all “Depends.” At least with poop you can smear most of it off on a nearby patch of grass. This is what I remember from the day humanity fell. Nothing like face shots on a powder day. Put an ear to the sky on a sunny day and you might learn a thing or two. No Context continued next page
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MjAzNjQ1NQ==