Flash

WORK by Andy Tran

The Algebra II teacher stood up with his hands full of frozen peas. “I don’t know what to say. But thank you,” he said. A pea dropped from his hand. Tess moaned. 
Read More »

THE LUCKY ONE by Pamela Painter

She walks with purpose over to a gangly tree and dumps our mother’s ashes at its base, then smears them around with the toe of her purple sneaker. Then she turns to face me as if to see if I’m going to object.
Read More »

FARM HANDS by Mark Abdon

The rocking horse was hideous, though. It was the eyes. Wide open and vacant, set too high on that giant head. The foot-pegs had snapped off on Black Friday.
Read More »

SPILL by Christina D’Antoni

At night I dreamt of pelicans strung up in the oaks by their beaks, choked in Spanish moss, the storm’s winds blowing them down. Cars sliding through gasoline, smearing their bodies into the street.
Read More »

THREE by Amanda Gersh

I used to say I couldn’t travel because I didn’t have the time, but now I’ve got all the time in the world because the world isn’t using it.
Read More »