In a domestic violence shelter, Christmas is the most peaceful day of the year.
Not Pretending by Meg Stone
Category: Flash
At the Fence by Christi Craig
After the storm settles and all that remains is the smell of wet dirt …. your mother asks you to go for a walk in the pasture behind your house.
What Chu Tryin’ ta Say, Doe? by Damara Martin
You want to know what engenders me to write. I ask my hands: what can possibly engender me not to?
Beach Tires by Harriet Heydemann
Four over-inflated rubber wheels stared at me from the top shelf in our garage. Smooth and grey, the tires looked like fat, curled up seals. Gary bought them online for our daughter’s wheelchair.
A Midnight Burning by Katrina Knebel
She couldn’t say how she had come to burn her hands that night. I forgot too.
Inheritance by J.L. Cooper
By the time I was eight, I’d come to know of a cigar box my father kept in our garage, filled to the top with various nuts and bolts, washers, grommets, and screws.
Auteur by Lynne Nugent
I point my cameraphone at the boy who is chasing a pair of robins across the park with his newly minted stagger-walk. The robins, unconcerned, barely rouse themselves to fly a few yards away…
Ice Breaker by Lisa Laughlin
None of us should be alive right now, you know. This is how the story begins. It is my father who tells me this story…
Nogales by Amanda J. Crawford
Don’t think about germs as you grip the gray carousel gate into Mexico. Consider why you didn’t bring hand sanitizer. Consider whether considering makes you racist.
Shame Shame by Nicole Breit
Raindrops pelt your umbrella like pebbles. It’s October, late afternoon, a charcoal sky. We’re standing an inch apart; you’re shivering.
