Grandpa told me he was yanked from the womb and immediately strapped onto a rocket just as it blasted off. Ever since, it has screamed forward at a super high speed: one year per year. He’s still riding that rocket – he says that’s how he got so old so fast.
Robb Lanum is a failed screenwriter in Los Angeles who fell in love with the short form.
My life
My life in the rain
I lost my shelter
From the cold and the pain
Alone in the dark
Between empty sheets
Will you
Will you ever explain
Well
I’ve had
A drink or two
Thought things through
Outside the pain
There’s nothing to explain
Here’s to you
Patrick Yu is retired and enjoys spending time with his many hobbies and the people that surround him.
My late-summer caterpillars are butterflies now, struggling from overwintered chrysalises, crumpled wings expanding. Departure impatience explodes into vibrant colour as they cascade up like wind-flung blossoms, dancing joyous against the infinite cornflower sky.
One lingers fleetingly on my finger, sumptuous wings spread, sunning – before she’s soaring to meet the spring.
Deborah writes at an old desk surrounded by five hundred pet bugs.
The afternoon we hit a dog she was driving. Minutes earlier I’d mentioned the speed limit and all the newly constructed houses. The thud and yelp were simultaneous. She swerved but never stopped. We were married to inquisitive people and had no explanation for being so far from home together.
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.
Sure, that night Tammy drove tipsy and too fast. But it wasn’t her fault the truck t-boned us.
I’ve been waiting for her since the wreck, watching her suffer from guilt. She doesn’t understand my signs telling her I’m okay, it’s peaceful here. She’ll find out today. When she arrives.
Liz is inspired by the tiny fiction of other writers. Find her at LizMayers.com.
At the morning meeting, colleagues stared aghast as shoots and tiny leaves burst through her skin.
By afternoon, the rewilding took hold – two huge fronds erupting from her back, unfurling winglike.
That night, she burst into a thousand floating seeds and allowed herself to drift away upon the moonlit breeze.
Mathew Gostelow (he/him) is a writer in Birmingham, UK. His strange tales have been published by Lucent Dreaming, Janus Literary, Ghastling, Ellipsis, Stanchion, Roi Fainéant, and others. He was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in 2022 and has won prizes from Bag of Bones Press and Beagle North. Follow him on Twitter at @MatGost.
He raises his camera to the eagle soaring above. He smiles, the climb up the mountain worth every aching step. Today he will tick another item off his bucket list. In awe he watches the bird, and so fixated is he by its majesty, he forgets to click the shutter.
Gayle is a past winner of the Boroondara Literary Awards. Her work has appeared in Award Winning Australian Writing, Vegemite Whiskers and Mosaic. Gayle is passionate about family, writing, photography, and with Australia’s beautiful Bass Coast which she now calls home.
The girl behind the counter didn’t know how to make a London Fog. Her co-worker told her it’s just Earl Grey tea and steamed milk. Well, I said to nobody in particular, it is but then again it isn’t. They’ve re-arranged the tables again, I said to nobody in particular.
Thomas O’Connell is a librarian living on the banks of the Connecticut River in Springfield, MA.
Through altruistic compassion of neighbours, Ruth Epstein scrounges for food, and coal for her burner. She hurries through desolate alleys to her flat at Thirty-five Rue Rossini for fear of being singled out. Once inside, she adjusts heavy dark curtains across window casings. August 1944: France is liberated. Ruth weeps.
Ilona Rapin is addicted to the curiosity and excitement of wandering the world which inspires her to write short stories about her impressions.
The story of the week for April 10 to 14 is…
Closing the House by Carol Reeves