
PEDRO PONCE: parched lungs garland the hopscotch grid
Flash Fiction by Pedro Ponce INGENUE We were late to the movies. At least that’s how the papers put it, below the fold, under regional news padded with grocers’ circulars. The twentieth century had long opened its gates—mass-produced, electrified—to the public. Yet we dawdled at a distance, consulted watches and pocket scripture, wary of the…
BETHANY JARMUL: a vintage piano among the maple trees
Flash Fiction by Bethany Jarmul Musical Remains My music-loving husband died in a car accident on San Francisco’s Market Street. He called to say he was heading home after picking up a gift for our toddler. From the other end of the phone, I heard Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata floating from his car’s radio in the…
RACHEL SMITH: delicate as the bend of her lashes against my cheeks
Flash Fiction by Rachel Smith Luminescent She tells me her name as if we’ve never met before, offers me the chair by the window, waits until I’m settled in before she begins. Today it’s the one about the fireflies, how they came to her on a sun bright day – luminescent, a flicker of light,…
The Shots Will Start at Mid-Afternoon
Flash fiction by Kim Steutermann Rogers Thursday Afternoon, Ruby Ridge Road, Homer, AK 99603 The shots will start mid-afternoon as Sylvie reads about sharks with watermelon-sized hearts that live 500 years, continually repairing damaged DNA. Sylvie will stand—neuropathy in her feet making her stumble—and split her living room curtain but won’t see anything except the…
We’re too old for Statues but summer’s ending
Flash Fiction by Mary Rohrer-Dann Before Eighth Grade Shadows creep across the crab grass of Harrison’s back yard. We’re too old for Statues but summer’s ending. We’re all exhausted. Everything bugs me these days, even Harrison, who swings us around and around, lets go with a howl. Ginny goes first–of course–lands in a crouch, lurches forward, pulls…
SALLY SIMON: Two cans of beets
Flash Fiction by Sally Simon Magenta Tears I meandered through the produce aisle at Foodtown searching for something new. Something to kill the monotony of string beans, broccoli, and zucchini. A man twice my age smiled as I passed by. I glanced into his cart: blueberries. Maybe there was something to the recent superfood trend. At the…
SUSAN TERRIS: Problems With Grout
Flash fiction by Susan Terris The Problems With Grout You’ve heard, I’m sure, about TED Talks, consider this a BED Talk. I want to talk with you today about bricks, about an absence of grout that began when a little girl, in lying bed at the start of a new viral pandemic, forgot how to…
KOSS: A near-death experience at the Hero’s Barbecue
Flash Fiction by KOSS Hair Her medical career destroyed, she decided to be a barber, but the fancy Italian shop wouldn’t have it. Her barber kit sat on the shelf near the door. Crushed by rejection, she wouldn’t cut my hair, nor anyone’s, but offered to color it and snuff out the grays, but there…
PAMELA PAINTER: Girl on the Grill
Flash Fiction by Pamela Painter GIRL ON THE GRILL Whack. I swatted the fly that landed on Police Chief Beltcher’s burger, always fried to “well-done” perfection on my grill. “You didn’t,” Mandi says as she unloads a tray of dirty dishes. “I did,” I say. In fact, I leave the flattened fly on its grave for…
KATHRYN KULPA: AFTER EIGHT
Flash Fiction by Kathryn Kulpa AFTER EIGHT Thin Mints were always the most popular. Every year, first sign of spring, our garage filled with boxes of Girl Scout cookies, and my mother ordered extra Thin Mints. Just in case. Was it the name that got us? Thin Mints, as in you can never be too…
Loading…
Something went wrong. Please refresh the page and/or try again.