Flash Fiction Magazine

By Mick Helson

“Hello, James,” said the elderly man as he walked into the familiar room.

James was sitting at a small table by the window, sunlight reflecting off his twinkling blue eyes.

As the elderly man walked closer, he took note of the quality of James’ skin. Yet again, it looked more youthful since his last visit. One of the little wrinkles that had run across the upper part of James’ nose appeared to have vanished. The elderly man was sure of it. He had run over the images of James’ face many times in his mind over the past weeks, noting and holding on to every small detail.

[Read more…] about Something Lost

By Paula Paterniti

It is a morning rush hour Q train, and Sally is heading into Manhattan for a doctor’s appointment. At sixty-five, standing on a moving train with bad knees and an aching spine is uncomfortable, challenging, and painful, so she’s happy to be sitting. The car is crowded, and every seat is taken. Subway seats are designed to fit three adults with enough room to feel uncrowded—a blessing in rush hour. Sally is lucky. Then at Seventh Avenue, a young woman pushes her way into the car and through the crowd, eyes the space between Sally and the wall, and squeezes herself in. She reeks of sweat and an unwashed body. She holds a filthy shopping bag on her lap, and the seat Sally had been so happy about only moments before, now feels cramped with an extra fourth person.

[Read more…] about Rush Hour

By Ro Lamb

“Are we ready to begin?” The words are cold, clipped, said with no emotion.

I raise my head. One shoulder braced against the padded walls, I drag my body to its feet. My teeth gritted against the smarting of the two fresh scars that run the length of my back. Snarling, I will my skin to stay whole as it claws against my flesh from the inside—a matter of time.

[Read more…] about Together

By Marc Frazier

Having become so used to change, my run calms me because of its sameness. I’ve had enough of change. I thought I was a boy at first, but I was wrong. Now I do not have to think about how unhappy I was. I am feet slogging through the humid Southern heat, tunes pumping through my veins. They aren’t the only things to have pumped through them. The earbuds keep the world out. That’s what I want when I run the Buffalo Bend Nature Path. And the familiar landmarks: the bagel cafe, littered gutters, the San Jacinto Street Bridge. The Houston skyline.

[Read more…] about A Greeting Card Writer Speaks

By Liane Smith

From the moment she came off the production line, Philomena knew she was special. A third generation iPhone, a 3S, yes, but she was so, so much more. Of course, she acknowledged the early models, those unwieldy pioneers—of course, she stood on the shoulders of giants (with her generational memory, she had to be fair), but she was different. As her diodes connected, Philomena knew she was an iPhone that thought out of its box.

[Read more…] about Philomena Follows Her Dream

By Kate Byrne

It was nearly midnight when May received the text from Ted:

U make it hom ok

The retired English teacher in May disliked these language shortcuts, but she was happy to hear from him and annoyed at herself for the happiness.

Yes, thank you. Home safe and sound. How about you?

Dont take long ta stumble back from c pub, need p buttr tho, hav ta eat plain banana s,wich

[Read more…] about Irene

By Megan Kiekel Anderson

So far, I’ve been spared the worst of it. One friend lost both her parents in quick succession to COVID last year, their funerals largely virtual. My aunt can’t carry a bag of groceries up a flight of stairs without needing to go lie down, exhausted, months after her mild case. My doctors have a haunted quality in their eyes.

[Read more…] about From the Heart