Stories tagged flash-fiction

It's Stupid, Stupid, What Will Become Of Us

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Whoa! Whoa! This just in! You mean we were minutes away from some kind of immanent Greek tragedy!!? Let me get this straight. I cheated one time on Jolene with Jolene’s baby-sitter (you!), whom she used to cheat on her husband (with me)? I guess I’m luc

Where I'm Calling From

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Let it ring for the eruption at someone else’s voice even though it won’t happen, I’m hanging from the end of the rope suspended from the real world: a surrogate self, holding onto the receiver.

Stones

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The manicured lawn rolls down either side of the knoll, punctuated with flat granite plaques, the occasional bouquet of cut flowers, a smattering of faded eight-inch American flags.

The Evacuation Queue

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The ticking must have gone on for an hour before Kathy realized it wasn't a clock. When the line finally moved, the rhythm changed. When the queue stopped again, she glanced behind her and noticed a woman in torn jeans and a filthy sweater tapping a heel on the…

Standup gigs in zendos make you cry, sometimes, but ... life is hard anyway, ain't it?

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"Here's one ... a priest, a rabbi and a zen master walk into this bar ..."

Gitana dreams and a love story ...

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She wore my shirt and loosely draped ...

Puppet On a String

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Spring break that year, (1963) I spent nearly every minute with Lynda. Her taste for sex was unquenchable once we’d gotten started. We did it in every position possible. The sitting position in the front seat of the car, which my brother Herb had to expla

The dancing with shibboleths in Iowa, baby, blues

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Be nice to get paid for it.

Let's Do It In the Mud

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Then I got another letter, but this time it was from my friend Andy, warning me that he’d seen Miller riding around with Lynda, driving her grandparent’s Dodge with Lynda sitting right up against his side, and his arm was around her. I saw red. I went

But the Heart Loves Chaos

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The mind likes logic, but the heart loves chaos. The light is always on in Reality, isn’t it? Maybe I sought you out to make sense of my life, I don’t know. Maybe I wanted some sense that you were still how I remembered you (at least a little of you tha

Whitechapel

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She left the Frying Pan Pub at 2:30am. She walked in zigzags and talked to herself. She turned onto Bucks Row. The boarding school was dark and silent. She thought she heard a child's voice up on the roof—they often played there—but realized it was only…

Summer Flip Flops

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Sal, a finder of misplaced objects notices the sunglasses, flip flops and boxers left on the pathway heading to the beach. They are his gifts today, so gallant is he of these ‘strays’ seeking ownership. He tries the glasses on first and feels dizzy.

Aliens stole mi hermano's brain

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“Boyohboyohboyohboy...”

The Probability of Him

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Sarah's yellow summer dress blew against her long, tanned legs as she sifted through a flower pot half-filled with gravel. I wondered how she could be so comfortable as to bend over in something so short. I own a similar dress, a blue one, and the one day I wore it to…

D20-Xc8

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Sheila's thigh brushes against me as Antone rambles on about an ice bar he saw on The Food Channel. “We have to go. All the drinks are served in cups made of pure ice, and they make you wear a thermal suit while you're there. You're so numb, you just drink and…