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There is one portrait with two little girls dressed alike, one girl appears older than the other which makes their matching outfits all the more peculiar. They don't even look alike. The younger girl is blond with a bunny nose. The other is darker and loo
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68022
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Don’t look Leslie, look, pretend she isn’t there.
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128676
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She hadn’t died. She wasn’t a ghost. She wasn’t even invisible. She just wasn’t see-able.
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15291210
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The coffins pile up gnawing dust on the glass panes to the rims of my binoculars. Shadowy cracks of stifling proportions, gliding over my eyes a requiem of mahogany. At dawn they heave between the workers’ hands, leave their resting places for a green tra
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105022
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He suggests my purchase is a metaphor.
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97522
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He began life as we all do, an almost indeterminate blob. Ultrasound sonar plotting his outline on screen. The echo chambers of his beating heart dispelling the ectoplasmic impression of mere ghostly existence. His rudimentary …
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7911817
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Perhaps it was her eyes. Or the late November rain. Or perhaps the sky on that day was a particularly uncommon shade of grey. He couldn't say. But he went there anyway, forced his shoulder against the wind, felt the pull. With his head bowed forward he stood on the…
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108494
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Take no form or face beautiful enough to cause warfare, or that which would provoke inanimate objects to song. If a tree wishes to flower in your presence, request that this happen very slowly.
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20152623
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I counted telephone poles and the seconds between them. The old highway cut straight through the sand and it seemed the road would never end. No curves. No hills. Just poles.
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88851
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...the woman of the sun, twelve stars around her head, the moon at her feet.
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8142112
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Italy is on his mind now. He wants to settle there with his wife and child. His unsteady hand sits on my knee. I propose he take me to Italy instead. He grabs my hand and places a languorous kiss on my palm.
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300
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Father dead, when I was nine. Mother weak, a bit emotional, perhaps touched. Found a new Bob, a self-made man, so she said. He didn't like me much. Said I was ugly, dirty, nothing but a failure, unworthy of his home, his goodwill, of no use at all. He beat me, rag doll…
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1283197
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"Herstory" was selected as the flash fiction of the month at Hothouse Magazine on October 2013:http://www.hothousemagazine.org/2013/10/flash-fiction-herstory-by-gessy-alvarez/
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1062102
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She was about 35 or so and noticeably pregnant. She was near hysteria when she knocked on our apartment door, right across the street in L.A. from a convent. But she took one last desperate wild look at me, standing at the door. I saw the animal in her ey
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205442
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You want L.A.? I’ll give you L.A. Land of the perpetual one-night stand. Land of the Leslies and the Sweets lying around all day in their bed just around the corner from this convent across the street from my apartment that took in the pregnant and the lo
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