She moved with a terrible efficiency, cutting corners within her own space so as to never, ever inconvenience. Movement that bled quiet don’t mind me, and of course, that’s more important and i’m sorry.
I soothed slowly, wordlessly: I see you; and of course you matter; and it’s alright, love.
Maria Cargille wrote this story.
Every morning she pins on a smile with thoughts as sharp as nails. She checks it carefully: is it wide enough? Are the edges too hard, are the lips too thin, too tight-pressed, too fake? (She copied the smile from a storefront dummy, but no one has to know that.)
Lorraine Manton is currently studying creative writing and literature at Deakin University, Australia, and has a great fondness for books, coffee and small slices of imaginary lives.
Running away is the easy part—it’s the coming home that hurts. Seeing your shoes lined up at the front door, your car in the driveway, your flowers blooming in the front garden. They all waited for you, faithful, steady.
It will be harder to leave next time, knowing that.
Alexa Donley is a speculative fiction author living in Washington. When not writing, she can be found traveling to new places or walking in storms. Her first book, The House on the Rocks, is available now, as well as monthly short stories on Patreon.
I walk by memory through night-dark rooms, take comfort in familiar imperfections — curled wallpaper and doors scratched by other people’s dogs. But my sense of security is strung through with a barbed-wire-strand of fear; I know I could lose this home. The strongest gratitude comes hand in hand with grief.
Elliott Fielding is a Colorado scientist and emerging author who weighs phrases and measures words.
We had good decades held together by children, purpose, and compatibility. Our love turned quieter, moving out of the foreground. Now, we find ourselves in a bounded endgame, wanting to evade stagnation and trying to love more once again—while we still have left some time and love to spend.
Lynn Kozlowski has appeared in The Citron Review, The Zodiac Review, Molecule, 50-Word Stories, Bright Flash Literary Review, Every Day Fiction, The Dribble Drabble Review, Friday Flash Fiction, and The Malahat Review. He has a volume of short pieces, Historical Markers.
I see her at the intersection up ahead, so I hurry.
When I get there, three signs face us: straight ahead is PAST; both left and right, FUTURE.
“Which way?” I ask.
She says nothing and goes left.
I should go right… but I just stay and watch her go.
Nowadays, Joey is more concerned with red light cameras at the intersection. His work can be found at joeytoey.com.au.
The pavement rolls under my tires like a conveyor belt of doom. Over and over again, taking me further and yet nowhere. At the intersection, the crane hoists a heavy load. Stopped at the red light, I imagine it coming loose, crushing my car’s roof. What would the headline say?
Melanie Reiffenstein is a writer thriving on coffee and books. She is a communications expert by day living in Toronto with her husband and two young kids.
I met my mother at a ritzy downtown restaurant to celebrate her divorce from my step-father. I brought a date. We had a feast.
After dinner, my mother said: “Listen. That girl.”
“Donna. Her name is Donna.”
“Not important. What’s important is you understand.”
“Understand what?”
“She’s not the one.”
Bob Thurber is the author of six books. Regarded as a master of Flash and Micro Fiction, his work has appeared in Esquire and other magazines, been anthologized 60 times, received a long list of awards, and been utilized in schools and colleges throughout the world. He resides in Massachusetts. Visit his website at BobThurber.net.
I thought I saw you, in a crowded train car, face wearing a scruff that is new, no? I pawed at the crowd to see, just a look, as you turned away. Maybe you saw me and decided, just then, that we are better apart. That you are better apart.
Susan Prause is a short story writer based in Minneapolis, MN. Her stories have appears in 53-Word Story Contest, Flash Fiction Magazine, Friday Flash Fiction and Spark Flash Fiction.
I wanted to show her the place near where I grew up, near my old house, where they hung thieves in the 1700s. But now it’s under construction: an assisted living company bought it and is redeveloping the town’s last active farm. We took selfies by the last likely tree.
Jon Fain’s micro fiction has appeared in Blink-Ink, The Dribble Drabble Review, 50-Word Stories, Molecule, ScribesMICRO, Six Sentences, The Woolf, and elsewhere.