The piano is upright, so it takes less space. You have to look inside to see the maker and year. A wire has snapped, yet the hammers hit true. There is magic here; Beethoven, Bach, Rachmaninoff. But our kids play chopsticks and mash away. And for me, this is everything.
Jeremy lives in Ottawa with his wife and two children.
After I called Mom
Listening to the remnants of her fragmented memory
Memories flooded my mind
Memories of
____hiding under a piano bench
____growing up and graduation
____her officiating my wedding
____divorces, worship and children
Memories that are now more a part of me
Than the woman who raised me
Stephen Wood is a professional magician working in Northern Texas, entertaining with his brand of magic, humor, and family observations.
A trip to grandma’s once involved baking cookies, licking spoons and cherishing stories about the past.
Today, the trip involves eye-rolling patience while teaching her to use her smartphone.
Wise old granny is suddenly clueless.
Be not fooled. She is teaching her last, best lesson—aging with grace.
Watch carefully.
A prolific writer, Carol Reeves is loving the freedom and challenge of Flash Fiction. Her stories frequently reflect the vicissitudes and blessings of aging and can be found in Flash Fiction Magazine and 50 Word Stories. Carol’s memoir, “All the Little Miracles,” was published in 2022.
There she goes… the woman I called sister. All makes sense now. But… how could she leave me? I was a child! And now, after all these years, she wants me to stop seeing Mum?
Or should I say… Gran?
She’s ringing! No, I can’t… No… What do I do?
Jennifer Busch’s mum is her actual, biological mum. At least as far as she knows.
He took me away, mother, a long time ago. Dad beat me down with words, fists-fists. If sleep came, your whispers were loud in dreams saying, “Run-run-run, go.” At fourteen, I found our river. I floated amongst drifters, moving with the broken, living, as we built tents beneath Georgia stars.
Angela Carlton’s fiction has been published in Every Writer, Everyday Fiction, Pedestal Magazine, 6S, 50 Word Stories and Friday Flash Fiction. In 2023, her story “Swallowed,” was nominated for the Pushcart Prize. See more on Facebook.
They called me today to say she has lost six pounds since last week. Mom has been refusing to eat for a while now. I visited her on Sunday. She looked radiant in her blue sweater, and long pearl necklace, wrapped in a wool blanket. Outside, it was 102 degrees.
Azarin Sadegh is an Iranian-American writer. Her work has appeared in Place Art Magazine, Scoundrel Time, LA Review of Books, and various anthologies.
Her children, somehow adults, took hundreds of vacation photos, posting daily. Curating an online life didn’t appeal to her.
Instead, she walked behind them, always, watching their hair, hearing their laughter, tucking the moment safely into her memory, where she could return and return when they left again in September.
Melanie Winklosky is a fiction writer trapped in a grant writer’s body. Her work can be found in McSweeney’s, and was named a finalist in the 2023 Boston in 100 Words contest and a 2023 finalist in NYC Midnight’s Flash Fiction Challenge. She lives in Swampscott, Massachusetts.
Mom was allergic to “fur-throwing” animals. Bright yellow canaries sang us through an otherwise ideal childhood. My children will have Real Pets, I resolved—dogs, cats and hamsters. And they did. Curiously, when the nest was empty, I got Tickles, a sweet pink canary, and it’s he whose memory lingers.
A prolific writer, Carol Reeves is loving the freedom and challenge of Flash Fiction. She is frequently published in Flash Fiction Magazine and 50 Word Stories. Her memoir, “All the Little Miracles,” was published in 2022.
The night she died
I had a dream.
She was walking
on an uphill footpath
toward an illuminated place.
Leaving me for the last time.
She turned. Smiling.
Thrilled to see me.
Baby sister knew I feared
to carry on without her.
“You’ll be OK.
I’ll wait here for you.”
Martha Ellen lives alone in an old Victorian house on a hill on the Oregon coast. Retired social worker. She writes poems and prose to process the experiences of her wild life.
He lumbered into O’Shea’s like a beaten horse. I tipped my glass. He declined. I thought of the irony, him girdling the trees as our dad lay dying to birdsong. I signed the waiver, allowing him to gut and rebuild what should be leveled and turned into a dog park.
Deb DiTomaso is a graduate of Sacred Heart University with a bachelor’s in science. She lives in Connecticut with her husband, a dog, and a bunch of chickens. Crafting stories is her passion. Her middle grade novel GRAM RIDDER placed as a finalist in CT Tassy Walden Awards for New Voices in Children’s Literature.