Protected: Memoriam Beta Reader Information
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
Protected: Memoriam Beta Reader Information Read More »
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
Protected: Memoriam Beta Reader Information Read More »
“Do something,” screeches the woman as the EMT, Julio, kneels over the choking man. It just hit Julio how he knows the husband and wife; they refused to make his and Allen’s wedding cake on grounds of their religion. How Allen had cried… “Do your job!” screams the woman. “Sorry. Saving bigots is against my
Flash Fiction #169 – Let Them Eat Cake Read More »
I lived here those years Celeste vanished. People reported seeing her. But never a picture. A picture of Celeste woulduh sold for millions. Imagine my surprise when I open this balcony, and there she is: the most beautiful woman in the world, swinging a little girl on that swing. Came out here with my camera
Flash Fiction #168 – Slaughtering Unicorns Read More »
One by one the hot sun dissolved the little water puddle’s friends away. Though the puddle had seen better days with clearer waters, it did not want to leave the earth like them. Being saturated with dirt was better than nonexistence. But a puddle cannot resist the sun. Bit by bit, the puddle
Flash Fiction #167 – A Water Puddle Read More »
Marjorie slides off her space suit. “Glenda, play: Home.” “Certainly dear,” says Glenda, her spaceship. Glenda’s red lights dim. Marjorie slides into her only remaining Earth dress, made of spider silk. Glenda’s mirror-scaled walls rotate and flash; rounded ceiling becomes sky, rounded walls become Marjorie’s meadow. Glenda’s vents rustle Marjorie’s hair like a spring breeze. Her
Flash Fiction #166 – Lightyears Read More »
Phelia hums as she plugs the tub. It’s the first time she’s alone in the house. She pours epsom salt in the bath and runs the water. Phelia hears the whispering as she lights the candles. It comes from the tub. She turns; it’s the trickling water. The way it burbles sounds like murmuring. If
Flash Fiction #165 – The Bathtub Read More »
I hated my mom as a kid. Of course Dad went from happy to brooding; she lectured him all the time about eating candy. We were allowed some. Why wasn’t he? She’d scream and shame him anytime she suspected he’d had candy. At eight, I’d had enough. I gave my dad my jack-o’-lantern of Halloween
Flash Fiction #164 – Candy Read More »
The woman petted the newly adopted cat as her husband drove. “To lose both owners…” Powder had been distraught over losing Mira. It understood its ailing owner had to do with the dust the husband sprinkled in her food. “I dunno, Dora. They say the cat killed him.” Sure, Powder intended the man to trip
Flash Fiction #163 – Powder Read More »
Eileen stared at sleeping Trent as the sun rose. This face once made her shudder. And now? The sun’s tangerine rays spread over his large ear, slid down his craggy cheek, moving over his heavy brow ridge into his deep cavernous eye sockets, revealing his only nice feature: his dark eyelashes. Her fingers traced
Flash Fiction #162 – Hidden Landscapes Read More »
As the rain pours, Winifred clings to her dead children. Delirium morphs her neighbors’ wails into her own skin pustules’ screams for God’s mercy. This is no plague; it’s hell. Lightning reveals a beautiful lady in silk standing over her. “My angel?” croaks Winifred. Jenny kneels. She strokes the dying woman’s cheek
Flash Fiction #161 – Angel of Mercy Read More »