…the sound of a deer approaching is like a pulse: equal parts soft thudding clod and ground shake. For a moment, you think it might be a heartbeat. You think it might be your own.
Distance by J.R. Lara
Category: Flash
Charges by Klayton Kasperbauer
I stand over two grievously injured calves, rifle in hand⎯a lever-action .22, the only rifle we owned at the time⎯my younger brother at my side.
Americana by Sharmaine Ong
I’m picking at artificial tuna. Sticky grains of brown rice crumble beneath the prodding of my chopsticks.
Butterfly by Magin LaSov Gregg
My mother makes no sound when the needle tip enters her skin. I expect her to cry, as I do, each time my pediatrician approaches me with a needle.
Q and A by William Thompson
People approach me on the street. They ask me if I need help. Sometimes they help without asking, and sometimes they just ask questions.
The Waiting Rooms by Michael Henry
My mother is in the bedroom, its atmosphere a fog of cigarette smoke. She works through the good book of crosswords, lying on her stomach on the creaky queen bed.
I Am Still Here by Emily Brisse
A three o’clock school bus. Early autumn. Monday. The sun seeps through glass and sizzles against the black seats, burning the backs of arms and legs…
Period by Gretchen Clark
In sixth grade, I came home to find a book at the end of my bed. Its title, Period, was written in big white letters, punctuated by a bright red dot.
Shame by Judy Kronenfeld
My father’s eyes stayed closed. Standing behind him, as he lay in his narrow bed, I stroked his warm, almost hairless scalp.
Memorial Day Weekend 2015 by Irving A. Greenfield
It’s a beautiful pre-summer’s day with the temperature going to the mid-eighties. A welcome relief after a harsh winter and a spring that was more like autumn.
