FLASH FICTION
Wicked Americana by Sacha Bissonnette
I told my mom I loved her at a gas station in Minnesota but I’m not sure she heard. The cashier must’ve been stocking drinks or something so it felt like it was just me and her in there.…
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The Devil Alive in Jersey by Catherine Buck
“She cursed that baby—” “Her thirteenth, I heard, and who can blame her—” “You can’t blame her for thinking it, but doing—” “Who among us—” “I wouldn’t—” “That’s you, though, isn’t it?” “You’re better than us?” “You think she’s…
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The Family Gathers at a Meal by Andrea Cavedo
The first time was an accident. She was slicing carrots, trying to keep them thin and angled, assaulted on her left by the blaring television in the living room, and on the right by her children squabbling in the…
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Particulate Matter by Rigel Oliveri
It is the one-year anniversary of the day your husband’s body was cremated and you are at the Jefferson Middle School Fall Orchestra Concert. Here’s a fact: The funeral home people don’t normally tell the bereaved when a cremation…
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Some guilty pleasures on this side of the border by Moisés R. Delgado
Nearly two decades in this country and Ross would make it difficult for our mom to leave if she had to leave tomorrow. It’s where she found her favorite purse—plum purple, faux leather, a simple yet elegant tulip print.…
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Floaters by Kelle Groom
Dark birds fly from my eyes. Disappear. Where do the kittens come from? We don’t have a cat. Just kittens lumped together like a single entity. A litter. In a box a blanket a bag on the passenger seat?…
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How to Become a Lesbian in Your Thirties by Catherine Buck
The first step is realizing that you just can. Do you look at the other trendy queer people in your life, consider that they possess something so freeing and joyful and good, wish that perhaps you were as lucky…
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The Woman Who Looked Like Patti Smith by Catherine McNamara
It’s an ugly thing to follow a woman along the street but this is what I did. She was a copy of Patti Smith during the early Mapplethorpe years, before Horses and Mineshaft and all the BDSM, when they…
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Southern Womb by Heidi Richardson
Trula be gone, selfish-flown some say or eyeing a new man. I say, Tru chugged by her own factory steam—didn’t one of us help or remind her of the mold blooming up the sides of her curtainless house—that Judson…
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The Two Denvers by Rebecca Starks
The first thing they had to do was name us, as if we were rescues or strays. As if they would need a way to gossip about us, to get our attention. We mostly did not like our new…
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