This is an archive of flash fiction pieces I’ve made publicly available. To be the first to see my newest pieces every week, subscribe to my newsletter here. You can purchase physical and digital copies of the collections here.
Wannabe Mr. Rogers answers all Detective Li’s questions about the missing boy. But there’s something off: his cardigan sweater, how he slurps the milk carton out of a straw, the way he smiles as if he knows something she doesn’t. “Why choose this line of work?” he asks the detective as she packs up. …
Ally had avoided the five and ten year high school reunions. Explaining to her high school tormentors why she was still a struggling server in LA made her cringe. But it was year 15, she had her own show, and now she was ready to go. She entered the reunion in a daring red gown. …
So this was death. Ralph had been dying a long time. He supposed everyone was. His long time just happened to be faster than most. Failing organs. Nutrition and exercise did help, but this was it. This was the moment … And like that, the symphony played. The hospital room bled and dissolved like …
Dearest Author, We were heart-broken to hear your transphobic statements on the telly. We assumed your Witch Manor Series was an allegory for inclusivity. Millions of fans did, too. Your witches fought so hard to be accepted into society. Who left this note on your fridge, you ask? It is I, Evadra, Head Witch of …
Flash Fiction #23 – The Head Witch of Witch Manor Read More »
I tried not to rattle my server tray. There she was in her black Versace gown: my favorite star. I grew up watching her every red carpet event, envisioning her in one of my dresses. I had even designed some in her measurments. But my manager fired staff for speaking to celebs. He …
For 50 years of marriage the only times Jerry and Emma fought were over the cleanliness of the house. She got onto him for leaving his shoes around … leaving the toilet seat up. If he were honest, he enjoyed riling her up. It was a friendly war. Now that she was gone, it wasn’t …
Spair key iz in frog statue. Oh. Ware gloves! Give Spot ham and he wont bark. Daddy haz one of hiz guns in front door clozet. Parents room upstairs, 2nd door to right. Shoot daddy 1rst. In the head. He iz a light sleeper. Shoot moma next. Shill screem, thats okay. Should be able to …
Sara reread the text once, twice, then three times: something came up, can’t make it. She looked at the apple pie steaming in the oven. The smell wafting through the kitchen no longer smelled so sweet; there’d be no date. Hours of scouring the attic for Grandma’s dusty recipe. Made with apples Sara handpicked. Weeks …
The spaceship went from planet to planet collecting the 51 types of entities. They were all colors, shapes, and chemical compositions. What they had in common was their official inclusion in the Intergalactic Federation of Intelligent Life. The spaceship had one species left to get. The little Kranliens, being Kranliens, bounced and cheered when the ship …
The problem, 80-year-old Mrs. Pembleton, resolved, started with her first murder. When she killed the mugger who broke Mrs. White’s arm. (He thought he was so clever with the mask, but she recognized the two tattoos on her neighbor’s neck.) No one suspected the little old lady next door for the grisly murder. Now she …