SKINK by aureleo sans
For now he made his home in men. Or rather, for a time, they lodged in him while he saved up seed money.
ONE EVENING IN APRIL AS A COLD FRONT COMES IN by Christopher Mohar
For one heartbeat, I wanted it to be true. I wanted to see my own father facedown on the tile, spattered in his own blood.
EPSILON & CLOSTROMONIA by Shy Watson
Clostromonia was beautiful. She was big-breasted and a fine cook. Epsilon’s fellow noblemen regularly begged for slices of her bimbleberry pie. “Ay, Epsilon,” they’d say, “I’m going to snatch the pie from your maiden’s windowsill along with the big-breasted beauty who made it!” In these moments, Epsilon felt proud.
ÔM by Lily Thu Fierro
2:00 A.M. Tonight’s crowd is mostly gone. Good tips. No grabs. I did alright.
CARMEN GOING UP by Sara Torres-Albert
When the man from 10C did not say hello to Carmen in the elevator, it barely bothered her at all; she was decorated to her chin with packages—housewarming gifts from one friend or another—and probably looked too compromised for conversation
THE SONG IN YOUR HEAD by Curtis Smith
In you, the beating of wings, the ticking of clocks, a heart that’s limped through another day. In you, the swirl of a thousand words you’ve said and ten thousand you haven’t.
THE GROOM by Paul Ruta
I just work here, okay, so it weren’t my job to speak up when I dug the ring out of Prince’s hoof with my pick, packed into the groove there with the mud and manure. I stuck it in my pocket and said nothing cause they’d only take it away from me and they got no right. Anyhow it’s just a plain wedding band, but solid gold I reckon, so it’s gonna be worth something.
WHEN I SEE IT by Adam Peterson
There’s a man with stringy hair talking about sin, but he doesn’t actually commit any. Instead he promises us redemption and tell us which ex-wife we’ll still be married to in heaven.
‘IF SOMEONE NEEDED TO DIE’ AND TWO OTHER FLASH PIECES by frankie bb
the night you kept getting higher and higher with someone else at the party, surrounded by all our friends, I jumped off a bridge—not to be melodramatic, just to show you I could have fun too.
THE BOOK OF INTRACTICUS, THE SECOND PERSON TO BE SWALLOWED BY A WHALE by David K. Gibson
And lo, not fifteen minutes after the ship had cast off its ropes, a giant Phoenician dropped his last denarius into a brass bucket and Intracticus retired to the bar, where he proceeded to become loaded, even as unto the dice.