Stories tagged flash-fiction

Almonds

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"... you shake your head and look down as if I am a mongrel dog who has pissed the Tabriz..."

The Letter

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As much as he missed Martin he knew that their time together had passed, even though neither of them wanted it to.

My Latest Failure

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Jason, the obnoxious host, thrusts his microphone against my nose.

Blue Skies

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These weren't the dark rooms of Seattle where I'd drunk pints alone and with friends in my twenties and thirties.

'Operation Scorpion': Coming Soon, to a Theatre Near You!

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["A short snippet of text that will be shown around the site to give readers a taste of your story. If you don't fill it in, we'll automatically use the opening lines. The limit is 255 characters."]

Golden Dawn

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Rose would have preferred to survey the wreckage alone, between sips of her earl grey, but the morning light drew her attention to blonde and jet black curls weaving into folds of fabric.

The Last Last Ride

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You’d stay on this small roller coaster ride all summer long if you could and if I were a rich man, I would let you. Is it fun riding around in circles? You’re only nine; of course it’s fun.

Ah, So This Is It

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He also said this to me in my imagination several years ago.

Palm-Sized Woman

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You filled your bag with rolls of film about to expire. The planks of the boardwalk were dusted in sand, a cold wind blew off the ocean, the approaching fall. You said you preferred people in your photographs. The Mexican boys selling rosaries from a backpack. The old women…

Corner Deli

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She would watch me walk past three houses to the corner deli. My grandmother. A deli on a street filled with beautiful old Victorians. That was when I was barely 10. She’d watch every step there and each back to make sure no one abducted me I suppose.

No Surprise Parties, Please

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“Many years of co-dependency,” he said.

Now Lay in It

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The phone rang again at midnight. Maury sat straight up in bed, a reflex from his days in the barracks. Linda, his wife, was already sitting up. In the hint of moonlight, she dabbed her nose with a wadded tissue and made helpless little noises. Maury…

An Imaginary Yesterday

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... I thought that if I were really a writer my imagination and the words that originate in it would already have chosen my future.

Insufficient

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We have read your book, but regret to inform you that it is insufficient. This is not to say that you as a person are insufficient, simply that your writing is. When you asked us what percentage of manuscripts we found sufficient, we told you, “Less tha

Small Things

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One of your roommates called to say your apartment was infested. You'd been staying with me in Brooklyn and hadn't gone home in weeks, but now you needed my help to remove furniture, move boxes of photo negatives, before the exterminator came to spray. I'd only ever been to…