Stories tagged flash-fiction

Too Much Information

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He couldn’t dredge up a single memory about the sex.

Worry

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I turned on the television last night, and one of the networks had a segment about a girl with no nose.

Opulence

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The seated woman dressed in blue with the stark white hair, starts saying, “She’s a wicked witch. This one, she’s a wicked witch, a wicked witch. She insulted me.” The tall, standing woman with bright red lipstick, elegant at one time, you cou

Conundrum of a Chair

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"Chair: 1, Marine: O"

Dime novel dreams of Krystal

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I never wanted to be a musician, no ambitions for fame in any flavor. I fell in love and bought a guitar. Doesn’t everybody?

Space Pentagon Arlington Kandor

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The General had family, a big house, big cars, big stars and bars over his big pumping heart. He liked to sail his boat on the Potomac, smoke hand-wrapped Cuban cigars while watching the sunset a fiery orange. But he was always one for the big plan.

I Don't Know How the Nights Can Be So Long When Life Is So Short

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The tall, standing woman with bright red lipstick, elegant at one time, you could tell, responding, “She has dementia,” pointing at her brain. “She was a Holocaust survivor.” And the one they’re talking about turns as she’s pushing her wal

The chrysalis stage of Gwendolyn Neuhauser (Revised again)

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I’d like to say that I recognized the spark in her, the candle hidden beneath a bushel basket, burning with the white heat of genius. That would be a lie.

Wasted Years

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I plucked at an invisible Steve Harris bass, Mike pounded at phantom skins imitating Nicko McBrain, and Brian wailed his best mock Bruce Dickinson tenor. We couldn’t wait--Maiden in three days.

Benny Houston

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Our neighborhood, near Coney Island, smelled of popcorn and farts.

Sidewalk Opera

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She is left feeling like she has missed a stop, that she's at the last stop, that she's somewhere she wasn't meant to be.

Say What

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Jane says to Roy, “What are you doing, Roy?”“Fuck off, Jane, I'm reading,” says Roy.“Well you could have just said so.”“I did.”“I mean just without—”“Yeah, well fuck off anyway.”“I've had…

From the Fotomat - Print # 1

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What was he trying to say?

Separation

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The increasingly furrowed lines on his forehead made her stomach clench.

Baghdad

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On her blog, Faiza tried to document the explosions and what she thought they meant in terms of frequency, sound and proximity. She gave up, instead detailed what was going on inside the house.