Flash Fiction Magazine

By C.L. Cross

“There she is,” Senior said to Ma’am Livie, who was curled on the couch reading a book.

“Who, dear?” she asked, clearly only half-interested.

“Who do you think?” Senior spat, letting the blinds snap closed. “That woman.”

“Lord in heaven, dear, are you on about Cybil again?”

[Read more…] about In the Bag

By Cecilia Kennedy

In the shallow end of the pool, I can see my pale legs streaked with sunscreen as I tug on my suit and push the skirted bottom down so I don’t look like an inverted umbrella. Cocoa-butter-jasmine-scented lotion hovers in the humid air above while I pull myself through the icy blue water. I’m suddenly aware that I’m smiling. I’ve finally made it here, to summer—after such a long winter—and I’ve treated myself to a dip in the pool.

[Read more…] about The Barracuda in the Pool

By Shane O'Halloran

There’s a demon on her head. Right now it’s sitting nestled in her hair, legs sprawled, heels resting left and right on each eyebrow. I watch it spit in her coffee as she takes a sip. An expert spit. Obviously, this one has had some practice.

“Thomas, are you ok?”

“What? Oh, I’m fine. I was just thinking of something. Sorry, you were saying?”

[Read more…] about The Best Day of My Life

By Ezra Solway

Growing up tortoise, grandfather always my hero. He say to me, hey, Louis, remember, Slow and Steady. One day, we go to PetSmart. In United States. How that sound?

And I say, Whoa. That sound great.

We live in dark storage unit in Malaysia, and before sleep, he tell me and eleven older brothers story of PetSmart. Of shining Pet Store on hill. Of place with every flower and light known. Of opportunity to live out Tortoise dream. He point claw to photo on bin, of poster tortoise eating petunia and hibiscus under fluorescent bulb. Tortoise look happy. It help us all imagine. Slow. Steady.

[Read more…] about PetSmart: A Tortoise Dream

By Alicia Ruskin

Had it fallen out of his wallet as he was fumbling to pay the taxi? Blown by the wind out of his pants as he groped for his house keys? Floated down to the street from the pocket in the ruffled shirt he wore to the club as he bent over the grass to puke? I rolled my bike carefully back, peeled the paper off the cement and smoothed it out over my jeans. The waffle pattern from my tire had just missed the numbers, blue under the morning light. Always the same, six in a row, a sequence of one and two digits and then the final number, the one that mattered, the one that tipped over an ordinary lottery ticket paying out thousands into one that changed a life forever. The Mega.

[Read more…] about The Mega

By Sylvia Melvin

Gentle, feminine fingers caressed my bulging sides, then worked their way down my vertical stem to a circular base. Steadfast eyes studied my form as if looking for imperfections. None were found. My maker, an 18th-century master glassblower, honed his craft to perfection.

As she held me in her hand, I sensed her appreciation for my beauty, and a puzzled look crossed her brow. Was she wondering about my history? How did I end up in an antique shop?

[Read more…] about Mazel Tov