Flash Fiction Magazine

By Peter Tyler

Marriage is tough. Isn’t that something we hear all the time?

“Honey, is the coffee ready? I have to get going.”

We love our early mornings together, enjoying the peace and quiet of the predawn hour between slumber and the other part of our lives. For this hour, we have each other.

[Read more…] about Romance of the Early Morning

By Jean Wolfersteig

Gaby circled north toward the lighthouse, let the boat fall off the wind, and swept the sails on either side of the mast like a swan—wings unfurled. With a fifteen-knot breeze blowing from the southeast, the boat skated the Hudson River, rising and falling over whitecaps, spraying water across the bow. She loved the challenge of keeping both sails filled from behind, holding the course without lurching into an uncontrolled jibe.

[Read more…] about Wing and Wing

By Margo Daly

He’s home with the boys. Jake and Toby, three and five. I have the next two hours to shop on my own. My first stop is the cafe around the corner, where I sit with my latte and browse through their mags. The coffee tastes off this morning but I down it anyway.

Fuelled up, hands on the trolly, I push through the metal gate into the supermarket. In the baby aisle, I breeze past Huggies nappies. Toby will be at St Pat’s Preschool next year. We’re over the worst.

[Read more…] about Sorry

By Christian McCulloch

“I remember a boy and his father,” began the old man. “They made a little balsa wood boat together in the garden shed. They shaped the hull with long, smooth strokes. They drilled a hole and measured a Dowling rod to be the mast.

“They used a handkerchief for a sail. They couldn’t show his mother because they’d trimmed it with scissors. It was his Sunday Hankie and had to be produced before the boy went to Sunday School. All she needed to see was the corner, so their secret was safe.

[Read more…] about I See No Ships

By H. L. Cornetto

The sign on the door has hand-drawn UFOs. Beneath the drawings are the words ‘ETAA Meeting 2-Nite @7:00!’

ETAA stands for Extraterrestrial Abductees Anonymous. The group has been using the basement of the abandoned church as a meeting place for a few months. Sharon is the group leader. Meetings consist of abductees showing up and sharing their stories over coffee and Little Debbies. Sometimes there are doughnuts.

[Read more…] about Bupkiss

By Stacy Carroll Swearingen

The clatter of keys in the copper bowl announced Lou’s arrival before he hollered, “Jesus H. Christ, Annette! Do something about that god-awful smell!”

“I’m trying,” she murmured to Millie, her golden doodle, curled on the bath mat. Millie sniffed vigorously as Annette bent down. Annette sniffed, too, then wiped her eyes.

[Read more…] about No, You Stink