Flash Fiction Magazine

By Paul Thorpe

“You don’t look like a demon,” I said. Because she didn’t. She looked vaguely familiar. Like a girlfriend of an acquaintance, or one of my wife’s social media circles. I had a vague feeling I was being punked in some obscure way.

“What in Hell do you know about what demons look like?“ she asked in response, with a flash of anger that gave me pause.

“Well, you know,” I scratched my head, “all fire and scales and stuff. Not like, well, this.” I waved my hands in her general direction.

[Read more…] about Your Guardian Demon Appears Over Coffee

By Edwina Shaw

A possum clomped on the roof like a workman in boots. Fiona lay on top of her sheets under the fan, listening and sweating. At seven months pregnant she was hotter than ever. She felt like she was wearing scratchy woolen bed socks like her Gran used to knit, except she couldn’t take them off. A Braxton Hicks contraction tightened her belly and she rubbed away the soreness as she lifted her phone again, blue light making her squint in the dark. She was afraid. She’d read every comment on the Facebook pages and chatrooms for women who were pregnant again after losing a child. Her baby hadn’t moved all night.

[Read more…] about Possum Magic

By Arthur Davis

“No, you can’t go out there,” I said, reaching out and wrapping my arm around her naked waist. “It’s not safe.”

“Out there? Where?”

“It’s not safe. There are dangers lurking everywhere. I can’t guarantee your safety and I’m certain there’s a cold front moving in. We could be hit with a massive snowfall any minute and you’re going to need all your strength to get through it.”

[Read more…] about Getting Out of Bed

By Renee Lake

I sit here and watch as people pass.

Their clothes change, but they do not.

They are loud, they fall in love, argue, cry, and don’t pay attention.

They don’t see me, but if they looked hard enough, they would.

It’s not like I’m hiding.

[Read more…] about Nothing There

By Bob Faszczewski

Old man Zeke Pinto protected the grapes on the tiny vines just out of reach over his fence like an armed guard keeping watch over the nation’s gold supply in Fort Knox.

You would think only grapes reserved for high society wine-tasting events rated that type of protection. Yet, unless someone tried to break into his little fortress, no sounds emanated from Pinto’s little kingdom. In which case, his four growling pit bulls made damn sure anyone foolish enough to approach the vineyard knew that they could wind up as the main course in the dogs’ next meal.

[Read more…] about Heard It through the Grapevine

By Tom Alexander

When the first light snows hit, we didn’t take it as a warning, but as proof of our own good fortune. There we were, tucked up in the log cabin in front of a roaring fire, sipping brandy and swapping stories, while outside the first storm of winter was just starting. We all remarked on how lucky we were to see something so picturesque.

The next morning, snow had settled so heavily that we struggled to open the front door, which was a reason to put our boots on and go for a walk. We felt the scrunch underfoot as we frolicked like little kids, catching flakes on our tongues and diving on the ground to make snow angels.

[Read more…] about The Cabin