My father started fights in bars. The brutalist architecture of his days was legendary.
He was proud to be blue-collar, to break things with his hands and rebuild them in his image. Oak. Rosewood. My mom. The bones in my fingers.
In our house, silence was an act of survival.
Julian Dores lives in Brussels, Belgium. He enjoys writing fiction and taking candid photographs of everyday life on the street. You can follow him @JulianDores or on his website.
Walter gobbled down the watermelon.
He felt the “plop, plop” as the seeds landed in his stomach.
When he woke the next morning, Walter had stems growing out his nose and a green tinge to his skin.
He was no longer a fully human boy.
He was becoming a Waltermelon.
Hannah Kelley lives in Australia and loves writing and reading micro-fiction. Her favourite fruit is watermelon.
Editor: Groooooan.
He flies free on bold green wings, the sky above and the earth below. He soars towards warmth on a cooler breeze, chasing freedom with his peach-covered face. He surges forth towards the sun, the world before him, nothing behind him, and then blinks awake in his cold, impenetrable cage.
B.M.A. Rook just wants this year to end without any more sorrow.
“Tranquil here, isn’t it?” said the voice. She’d met him after her divorce. Such a good listener! She felt a rivulet of sweat trickle down her back beneath her blouse. But the tree was wide, and his touch cool as he coiled himself around her and whispered in her ear.
Robert Markovich spent a lifetime in what is charitably referred to as service journalism, writing and editing stories about everything from cars to toilets, most recently at Consumer Reports. He is happily and gratefully retired.
He looks at the wheel with great determination. He turns it slowly, controlling the tepid temperature of spring in high heaven.
Cleaner silently mops the wet floor.
Thump! He slips. The wheel spins wildly. His face is pale with panic. Spring turns into summer, autumn, and winter.
He is fired.
Fannie is a girl living in Sydney, NSW, Australia with a great interest in writing and literature.
The credit card declines again. I tell the cashier I’ve left the other card at home.
Walk back without the groceries, holding Evie’s hand, wondering whether she’ll be happy with spaghetti again.
I gently rub the ring on my middle finger. I’ll take it tomorrow. Should buy us some time.
Megan Gim works as a speech pathologist but is currently on maternity leave with two young boys at home. She recently completed a short course through the Australian Writers’ Centre for writing middle grade fiction, which has reignited a passion for writing, and is writing flash fiction and microfiction to help develop her writing skills.
“I’m really, truly sorry,” Blake said, gesturing and screwing up his eyes, as if in pain, as if to show the depth of his regret.
Quite good acting, Ann thought.
“You do believe me?” he asked earnestly.
Smiling, she turned and walked away. As if I could be so stupid.
John Young is an old chap grappling with themes of limits, longings, and finitude. He likes spooky stuff and lives in St Andrews, Scotland, an ancient town with an ancient university, home of golf, and home also – allegedly – of many ghosts. (He has not met any yet.)
The story of the week for October 26 to 30 is…
Stress Turned My Soul to Copper and Steam by Maria Cargille
Emma works her knife over the jack-o’-lantern’s flesh, tapers the leering, accusatory mouth, widens empty eyes. Her stepmother’s features, just so.
She draws the gleaming blade between unhearing ears.
A centred candle bursts into flame.
“Proof of the destructive power,” Master Carver has forewarned.
Soon father will be hers alone.
Gary Thomson resides in Ontario, where he enjoys country drives through fiery autumn colours and strolling amongst early pioneer cemeteries. None of his published work matches the poignancy of mossy inscriptions on weathered grave markers.
The flickering jack-o’-lanterns stand sentry on my porch, but I’ve turned off my light lest any young tricksters trespass. Still, I left some treats in a plastic goblin’s palm with a sign saying “Pick one if you dare.” Sadly, I doubt any will dare tempt the viral Ghost of Halloween.
Marc Littman’s flash fiction has been published in many online magazines and anthologies from 50-Word Stories to The Saturday Evening Post. He also writes plays and novels.