Elbowing open the back door, he shouted his daily love letter to his wife: “Cuppa tea?”
A brazen wind from the garden stole his words away. He glanced around to mime instead, but found no audience.
The kettle whistled urgently.
He turned back inside, shrugging. “She’ll be in soon enough.”
Lucy lives in England and tries to write and read as much as life allows. Sometimes she wishes the wind would blow her away, too.
Every Friday the thirteenth, just at midnight, our world and the mirror world go out of sync. Mirror Me mouths silently to me, “I killed my husband.”
I am shocked, and can actually feel the blood drain from my face. “Me too,” I say, smiling back.
Ed Walker is a civil engineer and writer who lives in the Seattle area. His work has appeared extensively in concrete, but not often in print.
The story of the week for March 15 to 19 is…
For Mike by Jennifer L. Freed
My son stared into the terrarium, plush mushrooms rising like trees with red caps over the crystal gravel. “He’s gone,” he said. “What will we do without Sam?” he asked. I kissed him on the forehead. Then he pressed his face against the glass, staring at the tiny unlit stars.
Meg Pokrass is the author of six flash fiction collections, an award-winning collection of prose poetry, two novellas-in-flash and a forthcoming collection of microfiction, Spinning to Mars recipient of the Blue Light Book Award in 2020. Her work has appeared in Electric Literature, Washington Square Review, Wigleaf, Waxwing and McSweeney’s. She is the Series Founder and Co-Editor of Best Microfiction.
Jeff Friedman’s eighth book, The Marksman, was published in November 2020 by Carnegie Mellon University Press. He has received numerous awards and prizes for his poetry, mini tales, and translations, including a National Endowment Literature Translation Fellowship in 2016 and two individual Artist Grants from New Hampshire Arts Council. Two of his micro stories were recently selected for the The Best Microfiction 2021.
Jeremy didn’t realize they’d changed menus when he ordered his usual #5.
The bag sagged. The cashier handed him tongs and a chamois.
As Jeremy drove off, the bag moved in the passenger seat.
The screech jolted him.
Jeremy crushed his brakes. Walked home. Went to bed hungry.
But alive.
John Frain should be working on his debut novel. If you see him out and about, point him back to his office. Only then can you visit him at JohnDavisFrain.com.
Sitting in the morning
window, I gaze
at gray sky, gray trees,
curving tracks
in fresh spring snow.
Then a flicker, blue flutter—
quick color just beyond
the frame of my gaze.
I turn. Nothing
there, yet something
has shifted the beginning
of today. Some silent wing,
lifting the air.
Jennifer L Freed writes mostly poems, and sometimes writes very short stories. Please visit her website at jfreed.weebly.com.
“June?”
I turn at the sound of her voice. Same height as me, same build, her face a reflection of my own.
We try to compress fifty years of missed hugs into that first one.
“Look,” she says. “Same coat.”
We laugh, twin snorts escaping at exactly the same time.
Laura Besley writes short fiction and squeezes her writing into the bookends of her day. She has lived in Holland, Germany, and Hong Kong, but now lives in land-locked central England and misses the sea. Her flash fiction collection, The Almost Mothers, was published in March 2020. She tweets at @laurabesley.
He leaves the old AM radio on all day and night for background noise. Baseball broadcasts, right-wing talk shows, local news, religious programming. The tinny voices coming through the cheap speaker make him feel less alone, and remind him of a simpler time before the world moved on without him.
Ethan Noll enjoys crafting creative and aesthetically pleasing sentences.
Xanax helps, but crushing anxiety can still drag her under. Just before the interview, she clicks on a new guided meditation.
You’re lying on a tropical beach. Feel the sun warming your face. Breathe in deeply.
She smells salt,
Hears someone yelling Riptide!
Sees her son leaving her.
Tastes tears.
Laurie P. Mendoza is an elementary school counselor and children’s author who has been published in Spider Magazine. She also dabbles in playwriting and personal essays. This is her first attempt at microfiction.
Are you there?
My screen was off, rocking baby in one arm and notebook in the other.
Yes. No reply.
Yes, this time with the microphone on.
Participation is part of the job, I am reminded.
I apologize, forgetting to turn off the microphone for baby and I to cry.
Eric Persaud fights for worker rights.