With his inner vision, Milford manifested wishes for everyone but himself.
He showered his family and friends with cars, homes, and riches in hopes of gaining the love they’d always withheld. Instead they asked for more, until Milford manifested his own desire and willed the universe to make him blind.
Marc Littman is a prolific writer whose micro fiction has been widely published. He also writes longer short stories, novels and plays.
The Navajo celebrate a baby’s first laugh. It’s considered one of life’s special moments like when a newborn cries. They pass around salt, once prized for its scarcity.
My baby never cried or laughed, but I still taste salt in the tears I shed for him after all these years.
Marc Littman is a short story writer, novelist, and playwright inspired by everyday life.
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.
Lots of soap. Scrub. Sing a happy song for twenty seconds. Rinse. The officials say if I wash my hands real good, I’ll help stop the virus’ spread.
But I don’t know any happy songs, and washing my hands may get rid of germs but it won’t cleanse my sins.
Marc Littman’s short stories have been published in magazines ranging from Fictive Dream and Cafe Lit to The Saturday Evening Post. He also writes novels and plays. He lives in Los Angeles.