For the third night in a row she wakes up with stomach pains, her lower abdomen cramping up as if something were twisting her insides. She throws an arm over the side of the bed, feeling around in the darkness for the plastic wastebasket she put there before she lay …Read More »
When the dinger went off, Jerome took the meal from the micro and rushed back into the living room. The Perry Mason rerun was almost over, and Jerome was sure he had the killer nailed. Content continues after advertisement The phone rang but Jerome didn’t answer. He let the machine …Read More »
» A Life is Worth a Thousand Words by Brian G Ross Short stories, flash fiction and creative writing online.
He is born in the city; seven pounds, eight ounces. Unemployed, alcoholic father; downtrodden, dependable mother. They name him Tony; Anthony on his birth certificate. He learns to talk at six months; learns to walk three months later. His first word is car. Dad owns a Ford. He drives sober; …Read More »
It is the vegetation-engorged green of June, just an hours before the cicadas start up their grating cries. The sun tilts across a girl’s shoulders, making her shadow and the shadows of shrubs around her grow long and wide. She imagines that she has grown taller, into a monstrous shape. …Read More »
» The Saxophone Man by Roy L. Pickering Jr Short stories, flash fiction and creative writing online.
What am I going to say to Ellen? How will she react when I tell her I’ve been fired? I suppose there’s no point in asking myself rhetorical questions. I know exactly what she’s going to say. Content continues after advertisement “Howard, how could you let this happen? How are …Read More »
The highway here goes on and on. Even in the twilight I can see a vast emptiness in all directions, with only this thin ribbon of pavement cutting through to assure the traveler he is tethered to earth. In mid-day, the heat rises off these flats with an intensity that …Read More »
We danced the Tango on newly-cut grass and across the white-gravel driveway, hopping more than gliding, stumbling and trying not to hurt each other. I was eight years old and she was my best friend. Content continues after advertisement There was no music, of course, except what we always heard …Read More »
Bill was my best friend from college, where we were both studying to become High School Math teachers. We were both in our late twenties, we both had wives and small children and were struggling to get through college and on to a better life. Content continues after advertisement We …Read More »
Elizabeth folded a plaid shirt, size eight–the same shirt she’d folded three times already. Her neighbor, Lara, volunteered to help her in the garage this spring morning for the sale, so Elizabeth let her pile the boy’s clothing and re-write some of the prices she’d written earlier on masking tape …Read More »
» Family Thanksgiving by Michael J. Cunningham Short stories, flash fiction and creative writing online.
Often, usually around the holidays, my large, extended family causes me to go to my âHappy Placeâ (usually, The Bahamas). I can go there any time I want… without moving a muscle. All I do is look to the sky and make myself believe that it is the sky above …Read More »