Flash Fiction Magazine

By CJ Erick

This one was small. Maybe ninety pounds at the most. She wouldn’t be happy. Carl followed the trail in the beam of the headlamp strapped around his scalp. It was hot, sticky, his T-shirt clung under his arms, and he smelled his own sweat. Anything out there could smell him. The bobbing yellow-white circle of light illuminated dried twigs and dried dirt, and he felt like that, all dried on the inside, especially his throat. He’d saved his last three bottles of beer for later, and he would need them.

[Read more…] about There is Plenty for Both of Them

By Michael Brodin

At the ripe old age of forty-nine, pushing The Big Birthday, Circe Krawczuk, MD, PhD, whom everyone called Cissy, found herself in a loveless marriage to Raymond Shaw, a traveling salesman who simply couldn’t remain faithful.

[Read more…] about Black Magic

By Kristin Dober

This Story Was an Honorable Mention in Our Contest

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He drove past the old bait shop on his way to the hospital after he got the phone call. The nurse explained there was no one else, and that time was short; it was the right thing to do. He almost didn’t go, and he certainly didn’t stop as he passed the dilapidated, yellow building where he spent his formative years. He turned his head to look. The hole in the roof was familiar, dark and gaping.

[Read more…] about Abandoned Fish

By Michael Harper

This Story Was an Honorable Mention in Our Contest

Learn More About Our Contest Here

My father’s eyes look blank. Spider-webbed trenches trail away from their corners, merging with other highways of age criss crossing his face. He’s lived his entire life on this farm. Besides one trip to Korea.

[Read more…] about The Silo

By Ben Detiveaux

This Story Was an Honorable Mention in Our Contest

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You left your mother a year ago.

Since then you have survived on scraps long since rotten. Warped purple tubers dug up from dirt that burn your fingers and slack greens tasting of sour water sprouting around the puddles of the gray pathway.

[Read more…] about Apex

By Karen Crawford

A time capsule arrived from my mother today. She’s been cleaning house since her basement flooded. Mailing old photos and videos, which have created a flood of my own. The box is packed tight. When I finally get it open, a hint of her perfume drifts out. Sweet like rose, heavy like moss. I see her spritzing her waist-long hair and dabbing the hollow of her long, slender neck. Leaving her scent wherever she goes.

[Read more…] about To Shine

By Lindsay Gallant

Lymantria dispar. I used to call them gypsy moths. Fucking pests is what Dave calls them as he hands me a roll of duct tape. “Go and tape the trees,” he says.

I roll the tape around the bottom of an oak tree, sticky side out, and watch the caterpillars crawl upwards. Their bodies undulate, the blue and red dots on their backs rolling. Dave shouts from the other end of the yard and kicks the corner of the woodpile. Mad about something. It’s always something.

[Read more…] about Moths