JOHN CHRISTENSON: For Sale

Amusing, Artistic, Submissions, , , , ,

FOR SALE: One flying saucer, slightly dented from crash in Roswell, NM. Traditional mid-century pie-plate design. Owned by an immigrant from Alpha Centauri who flew over picnics, playgrounds, and outdoor weddings to provide indelible memories. Originally powered by love and nostalgia, now retrofitted to run on fear, suspicion, and hatred.

John Christenson lives in Boulder, Colorado and shares a fondness for penguins with his wife and cat. His publications include short stories in the New Mexico Review, Flash Fiction Magazine, The Whisky Blot, MoonPark Review, and several anthologies.

CHRISTINA NORDLANDER: Midnight Sun Forest

Artistic, Submissions, , , , ,

I’d assumed the midnight sun would be special. All I saw was a low, dull sun; watery light.

A luminous gloom filled the space between the tree-trunks, flattening all colours. I pulled flowers: catch-fly, lady’s mantle.

A cascade of dew spilled from one. Momentarily, I saw a rainbow at midnight.

Christina Nordlander lives outside Manchester, the UK, with her husband. She has published approximately 30 short stories and other pieces, primarily within horror and dark fantasy.

MADELEINE McDONALD: In Tandem

Artistic, Submissions, ,

We grow old together, the house and I. We inch towards the end of our useful lives, sustained by temporary repairs and fixes. I lose height; the foundations settle. The front door gleams with fresh paint and I dye my hair: we must present a brave face to the world.

Madeleine McDonald relishes the challenge of flash and micro-fiction, but has also published newspaper columns, short stories and romance novels.

KPS PLAHA: Running the Full Sentence

Amusing, Submissions, , , ,

At first they thought it was a complex one but soon it was apparent that, despite slicing it into clauses and grammar, it was going to refuse to be categorised–or pigeon-holed, if you may–and start to rival a paragraph that leaves the reader breathless when it ends; the run-on sentence.

Kanwar lives in Sydney, Australia, and writes flash fiction, poetry, and short stories. He taps a keyboard and pushes a mouse for his “day job”.

ROWAN TATE: Past Lives

Adventure, Artistic, Submissions, , ,

My sister believes we were monks once, tending a quiet temple. Another time, soldiers who died on the same battlefield. I ask her why I don’t remember. She just shrugs, peeling an apple. “You never do,” she says. I watch the knife flash. Something about it makes my hands shake.

Rowan Tate wrote this story.

PIPER PUGH: Cincinn

Artistic, Submissions, Top Stories, , , ,

I arrived sweaty and covered in snow.

I’ll show you her, he said, don’t be sad if she doesn’t remember.

She was bones and skin, on a living room cot.

Hi, I said, and her eyes replied, round and begging. I knew what she knew. Wordless, we sat, remembering everything.

Piper Pugh is a writer and educator living in Los Angeles, CA.

SCARLETT ALDERWOOD: The Visitor

Adventure, Submissions, , , ,

A woman visits my grave everyday. She spends hours talking and crying. Sometimes she plays cards or tells me about the shape of the clouds. She tells me she is sorry, how she wishes she could apologize. I want to apologize too, because the name on the stone isn’t mine.

Scarlett Alderwood has a degree in Literature and has a passion for creative writing and flash fiction.

SAM HALL: Like There’s Nobody Watching

Amusing, Artistic, Submissions, , ,

We mustn’t stop dancing. Whilst we dance, we are ourselves.

Though the band hasn’t slept for days—though their fingers bleed, strings break, voices crack—they must keep playing.

Outside, those who have abandoned the dance gather, craning their ears, listening to the music—waiting patiently for it to stop.

Sam Hall is a short story writer and poet from a miserable island. When not writing, he’s either fixing leaks in his cabin, building uncomfortable furniture, or chasing after runaway chickens.

LEIGH LOVEDAY: Calling Card

Adventure, Submissions, , , ,

The detailing on each figure was exquisite. Facial features recognisable at minuscule scale, hand-crafted garments threaded onto limbs like insects’ legs. A startling talent at work.

Shame about its application, mused the CSI, lifting the latest doll delicately from the victim’s rigid palm and sliding it into an evidence bag.

Leigh Loveday grew up in south Wales and now lives in the English Midlands, besieged by cats, writing fiction aggressively slowly. Find him loitering online at @leighloveday.bsky.social.