Tag Archives: Flash Fiction

expect the unexpected

Pockmarked … later I get flashes of grandpa with his old runners all rolled up into one giant sticky mess—balled and held together with tape… He’d talk about the high school girls he’d “teach” Bible Study to. They: all spouting … Continue reading →

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happy three to thee

huh? wha’? wha’ happened?! While I wasn’t paying attention this endeavor turned two years old, on 11/17/21, and quickly shifted into its third year of existence … Hey, hurray, harrumph! This is still: thee istsfor manity reader And this remains … Continue reading →

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in my neighborhood

You are like the tuber of calcaneous, necessary but non-articulating… Without you there is no ambulating me… The things you said to me in your gasps and low moans: “They transferred me to room 15…” “It’s the same to die … Continue reading →

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minute of elation

Elation in Elisions The odious neglect of the scab Crab Nebula yelling: I Zimbra, I Zimbra, dada, dada, dada, doo! At the Cabaret Voltaire after hours parties degenerate into clean well lighted chess matches in top hat and overcoated teas … Continue reading →

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out of tune

Bile-Yellow (redux) The refulgent quality of my psychopomp is only surpassed by my staring into the sun. Psychopomp? Who the hell needs to be led in? I often stare into the sun. It’s the only way I know to calm … Continue reading →

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someone muttering bummer

Jodhpurs & Jujyfruits There are blocks everyday. People die everyday. There is gothic organ music swelling and ebbing in the ether. There is someone muttering “bummer” nearby and the smell of acrid pot wafting on an eddy of warm wind … Continue reading →

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straight-line gash

The Walkman Chronicle My father disappeared into the basement in search of the wine. Lois and I stood in the vestibule staring at each other. Silence. “Oh, darling, come here. I got some schmutz on your face,” Lois said. She … Continue reading →

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boxful-o-reverie

Muted Video Feed Fugue No need to look at me while I write, she thinks—and what’s this mass of entropy floating next to me? It seems most people go off-camera for the writing bits, then so shall I, she said … Continue reading →

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you there, psychonaut

1.5 Degrees Celsius “Maria, chica, it’s not about the damned orange juice, it’s the principle of the thing,” Garcilazo says. “Maria, hey! Earth to Maria. Are you there, psychonaut? What are you doing?” Maria is rapt staring out the balcony … Continue reading →

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your last day

Not Praiseworthy Predation “That Victorian cow is making my life miserable.” “Well you’re a Postmodern pig, so I guess that evens it all out doesn’t it?” “Why are you taking her side in this?” “Im not. You need to be … Continue reading →

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