Stories tagged flash-fiction

Divine Intervention

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All year long he had an expired calendar on the wall—Bridgestone Tires, 1996—and the same leopard-skin clad model posed over a Formula One racing car, a sudsy sponge in her hand and a flashing smile on her face.

The Whim of Dictators

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Torn paper, an insulting note from a nurse he’d given the eye to as he scrubbed up for a routine appendectomy.

... / ...(2) or Discipline

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The old man hits the remote. Jerry Springer. Then an infomercial for some ab machine. Then Jerry Springer again. Then two monkeys copulating on a nature show. The male is super quick.

Cork—July Morning. Rain.

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the priest wipes kidney stains from his chin and pulls an extra pair of socks on

Natural History Museum—Lunchtime

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young tourists from Latvia or Estonia take selfies and mug for the camera

Deerbegone

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There is so much deer poop in our front yard that I’m off to go and spray “deer away” - plus the friggin buck knocked over one of the cactus’s you gave us that’s been standing for two years now. I actually saw the damn thing lying on part of the cactus- w

Cobh—Late Afternoon Before Rain

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These huddled souls could be a cult of fairytale scholars exiled to the area by unseasonal floods in Belarus...

Karma Control

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I came into the café and there sat a plump man with a huge beer belly and pencil-thin black moustache, drinking from a large paper coffee cup with the name “Butch” written on it, by the Barista. He had just discovered that his karma was out of control

National Museum of Art—The Taking of Christ

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A red-faced man with a walkie-talkie rushes to her side and speaks into the microphone, summoning aid,

Wings

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The trouble began in October, when Ava, an embittered receptionist who worked at a small museum housed in a five-story Westside brownstone, discovered that the floors were littered with enormous grey feathers

The Year, In Review

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And him, now there’s a him. I’d like if he were perfect, but perfect things never are. My daughter says it best, when she contrasts the two of you, “Daddy worked to forget about his problems. When he works, it makes him feel like there is a problem.”

Haying

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It is not unusual for farmers to see the future before it’s begun—but I am not speaking here only of the need to hope but more. . . .

No Communal Mythology (Patti Smith)

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My father fell midst wax and sticks into the rubble of our family woes.

Karma Control

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I came into the café and there sat a plump man with a huge beer belly and pencil-thin black moustache, drinking from a large paper coffee cup with the name “Butch” written on it, by the Barista. He had just discovered that his karma was out of control

3rd Week in Rehab

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They all talk in clichés, reading off three by five cards.