Flash Fiction Magazine

Elmer Has A Dream

October 5, 2014 6 Comments

By Erik Bruce Blagsvedt

Elmer finished his gin and went to bed. He quickly succumbed to a dream:

There was a woman sitting by a harp-like instrument. She was enshrouded in translucent white curtains. She was him but he could see her as if he were another. There was no music playing. She spoke: “Sometimes I have to do things that will make you question the way you perceive them. It’s a blind gutter. The faces come and go. Pick one light and rest your name on it. It doesn’t matter which one. [Read more…] about Elmer Has A Dream

Unanswered

October 4, 2014 Leave a Comment

By Meredith Castle

She laid against her husband, caressing his upper arms with her fingertips, listening to him snore softly. Tears lingered at the corner of her eyes, as she prayed silently.
She had heard that praying for someone was a form of love. So, she offered thanks for his life, his hard working nature, the stability he brought to their home. Underneath her prayer swirled a deep and painful need that caused the tears to trickle down.
They were not new tears, nor were they new prayers. The need was not new either. They had all been there even before their marriage. But as time rolled on, and the needs went unmet, the hollows in her heart grew deeper, more empty, more thirsty for just a simple touch, an acknowledgment that she was in the room, an embrace. Oh what she wouldn’t give to feel him touch her, not just physically, but with his presence. [Read more…] about Unanswered

The Running Bath

October 3, 2014 1 Comment

By Darren Simpson

I do love a good soak. Nothing like it. ‘Charleston,’ I say. ‘Do be a good fellow and run the bath.’
‘Of course, sir,’ he says in rich, reliable monotone. Some Cognac, and then I head to the bedroom to be prepared by the maid.
Charleston opens the bathroom door for me, releasing a cloud of fragrant mist into the hall. It settles on antique surfaces in plump, silky beads.
I study my reflection in the faucet’s golden mouth and test the water with my toes. Carefully, I fold my gown and place it on the chair. I put my right foot in first, then the left, and slowly lower myself into the soft, lilac water. With only my face above the water, surrounded by lavender buds and creamy pearls, I close my eyes. My muscles untie themselves and spread like a warm eiderdown.
And this, my friends, is a beautiful bliss.
So you can imagine my dismay as the bath shakes free its brass legs and jumps through the French windows with a terrible crash. I hold on for dearest life as it gallops through the garden. [Read more…] about The Running Bath

Going Home

October 2, 2014 1 Comment

By Tom Larsen

My father came home from Viet Nam and went right to work. He went to night school on the G.I. Bill, married my mother and bought the house on Fairlawn Avenue in Trenton, a sturdy boxlike brick structure built in the mid-forties for the veterans returning from another war. A few years later I came along; their only child.
I was a good enough athlete to earn a scholarship to play linebacker for the Pitt Panthers. Not more than a week after I received my award letter Dad announced that he had taken a job in Los Angeles. We left town on the same August afternoon. Me in my seven year old Mustang and the two of them in a thirty-two foot moving van. There was no one there to see us off, except for the new homeowners—a young couple just waiting to pick up the keys. [Read more…] about Going Home

Condoms & Cigs

October 1, 2014 Leave a Comment

By Chris Wilkensen

Eric’s knees bounced up and down so fast that the floor vibrated.
“Would you stop shaking already? Just calm down. You might wake up the neighbors,” Suzy said.
“You know what, maybe I should go,” Eric said.
Eric slid books and papers onto the floor, bent down on the carpet, searching.
“Where did you put them?” she asked.
“Well, if I remembered, I’d have them.”
He couldn’t find his keys. His anger and embarrassment pushed him to urgency in his exit, but his forgetfulness put more time on the clock. More time equaled another chance.
“I wouldn’t let you drive anyway. You’re wasted,” Suzy said.
“So, you’ll let me stay here then?
“If that’s what it takes.”
“And I’m not high either. I’ll just have to call the dealer for a new key tomorrow. The car dealer. Not the drug dealer.”
They laughed. He sat back down. [Read more…] about Condoms & Cigs

Eight Minutes

September 30, 2014 2 Comments

By Tamika Thompson

Her phone rests atop the bluff. Her left hand conceals the item she found in the attic three days ago. Her naked foot toes the edge. Her regrets are legion.

She’s in the same pencil skirt that she wore to her appointment that Friday. There are no pasta sauce smudges or ketchup stains near the buttons on her blouse because she hasn’t eaten.

Her pulse slows.

Life’s a round-trip ticket, she tells herself. This is just her return flight.
[Read more…] about Eight Minutes