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Howard needed to finish this time. As his marriage slid further down the sinkhole toward divorce, it was important to him that his affair be successful.
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I dreamt of prisms locked inside the ice for thousands of years, waiting for the chance to fly
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I dance in time to the bachata; a deep baritone voice sings about a lost love. I see the dancing people and the gray cloud of cigarette smoke over their heads. I see the kids playing tag, using the dancers as base. I see the young boys, looking straight a
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543 0 0
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"They've got your number too man!" He points at my chest, jabbing the air. "They're watching us all man! Take me with you! We need to get out of Texas."
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When Mr. Gregor pulled me by the arm, Lo pounced on him. Knocking Mr. Gregor to the ground with one shove. He then rammed his fist into the young teacher’s face, breaking his glasses, making blood ooze from his thin nose.
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Mama hung them everywhere. It started with just a few, in our apartment and outside on the brick. She made walls into windows.
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1979This is what Cheryl Brown thought as she stood out in front of her newly minted Colonial in Bloomington Estates: that her husband Matthew was a beautiful person. If he had been born a cardinal, everything would have been fine, because as the male…
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They’re friends, him and Sissy and Raul, you know, and live upstairs from Asa and he went up there. He kept texting me saying, B here all night, follow u 2 airport. Yelled down through the floor. Real crazy shit.
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She had loved sleeping in Todd’s arms at night, hearing the soft tinkle of crystal above her when cool drafts moved through the house, his hand wandering over the swell of her belly.
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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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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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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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"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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Henry yells at her when she lights cigarettes and candles. But this is her small secret ritual, her way of making good with the god she is no longer sure she believes in...
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