Flash Fiction | Southern Discomfort
This week I deviated a bit from our usual poem per week, since I had a need to read something by a sharp, concise writer of both poetry and flash fiction: Barbara Zimmermann. Flash fiction is a style...
View ArticleFlash Fiction Submission Guidelines
As the great Ferris Bueller said: Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it. When you have a few moments to pass and want a glimpse into another’s...
View ArticleFlash Fiction | The Woman In The Pond
In a field peppered with trees there is a little pond with a woman who lives inside. Her name is Kathy. But make no mistake—Kathy is not a mermaid. No, there are no fish parts anywhere on her. She...
View ArticleShort Story | Smokestack
by Meredith Resnick I remind my mother just before we drive past the cemetery to hold her breath. She inhales her L&M, tells me I’m crazy. We’re in her blue Pontiac, the one Daddy says matches her...
View ArticleFlash Fiction |“Touch”
The E train is Jonah’s favorite, with its bright lights’ industrial glow, the rush hour shove of body into body, the curve of a backpack pressing into sloped hips and elbow crooks. He loves the smell,...
View ArticleSelf-Defense | Short Fiction
#YesAllWomen has become more than a hashtag: women and victims of abuse, rape and discrimination from all over the world have used these three words to share their stories and connect with others....
View ArticleFlash Fiction | And Then
She lived in an apartment building just off a main road that eventually led to a bridge. It was the only bridge out of town and off the island. It was a busy street, not the best place to raise kids,...
View ArticleOne Lie | Flash Fiction
Emily Carpenter is a freelance writer from Atlanta who wrangles three boys and is working on her first novel. He swung up his backpack and wiggled into the seat beside her, smelling like sun and...
View ArticleDancing Shoes | Flash Fiction
Martha slid her left foot into the size 9AA red alligator pump with spike heels and pointed toes. Then she slid her right foot into its mate, stood from the row of turquoise plastic chairs, and wobbled...
View ArticleFlash Fiction | In A Name
About two months ago, the dog started following me on my nightly walks. She’s some sort of mutt, so ugly she’s cute; I don’t know where she came from, or where she goes when we’re not walking. I’m...
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