We were smoking Dad’s cigarette butts (okay just me) before he got home from work….
We Had No Woman by Ronit Plank
Category: Flash
Origin Myths by Susan V. Meyers
On the day when I should have been inseminated, but am not, I find myself instead making up my mother’s face…
De-escalation by Lauren Woods
My son expertly held a tube of wrapping paper over one shoulder… pulled with his trigger finger, and aimed it toward me.
Bathymetry by Sally Jonson
It isn’t that your memory is full of holes, it’s a hole where your memory should be.
What I Wrote Was Congratulations What I Meant to Say Was by Rachel Lincoln Sarnoff
We never thought we would stay in this city, did we? But I’m still turning the same corners….
Bells by Ashley Bethard
I sat alone on a chair in a soundproof booth…. Heavy headphones were placed on my head.
Swallow by Candice May
Six years old, I’m having a standoff with the small, polished red Advil my father gives me….
Your Wife Knows You Are Here by Helene Kiser
I don’t know this yet, but I will remember this moment always. Our heads pressed together, M’s face in my hands, breathing each other’s breath…
Screwdriver by Deb Fenwick
My father tells me to come to the hardware store with him because my brother’s too busy playing with dolls.
This is Not Baby Weight by Adina Ferguson
I often catch myself doing that thing pregnant women do as their hands rest just below the tip of their bosoms….
