MOVING HOUSE by Daniel David Froid
December 12, 2022
The crack widened at last and cleaved the porch in two. The tree had effected a crack that, the men saw, was surprisingly neat. The work of the devil, said Fred.
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AN OPEN WOUND by Jasmyn Huff
December 9, 2022
What’s it like to die? To stop being. Gone in a moment, carried away on the wind. Does it hurt?
FINDING THE JOY by John Chrostek
December 7, 2022
No one had spoken up for me. Not a single soul on my street told the officers they had the wrong idea, that I was a pillar of the community.
DOUG AND A CAT by Anissa Elmerraji
December 5, 2022
He lunges into the dirty can and takes the cat by the scruff. It hisses and scratches his hands until blood drops fall from his hands.
A CORBEAU BY ANY OTHER NAME by Camille U. Adams
December 2, 2022
How a mother could be so? Why when she’s in the same room with me I feel swallowed up by a heavy coat pulling me down?
TRANSATLANTIC & TWO OTHER FLASH PIECES by Peter Krumbach
November 30, 2022
The 84-year-old woman across the table from me describes a couple who has chosen to be buried in coffins stacked on top of each other in one grave.
PONT-SAINT-ESPRIT 1951 by Phoebe Billups
November 28, 2022
The man clutches at his stomach as the attendants wrestle him into a straitjacket. By the time they manage to sedate him, the waiting room brims with new patients.
THE PENNY IN THE WELL by Henry Elizabeth Christopher
November 25, 2022
We had sex, he took my blood. Positive ions, positive feedback loops. The cycle perpetuates itself.
ALL THE BEES IN CALIFORNIA ARE DEAD by Piper Gourley
November 23, 2022
I’m in California now, where bees die in the light. Where everybody dies first, then lives forever.
MY STICKY-FINGERED GIRLS by Lynn Mundell
November 21, 2022
I look at the baby doll abandoned on the floor next to its ripped box, its unblinking blue eyes staring back at me. One of its fat cloth legs has been ripped off in the fight.