“Met anyone?”
“Anyone special?”
I brushed them away.
“Too busy. Exams. Labs.”
Aunt-ennae vibrated.
“Grasshoppers who work all mating season die alone in winter.”
“You’re making mountains out of aunt-hills!” I retorted, laughing as they scuttled off.
But tonight, as I munch leftover sandwiches, why do I suddenly feel… aunt-sy?
Joanna Norland dedicates this story to her beloved Aunts Tiby (RIP) and Roberta. If worry be the (picnic) food of love, I was a very well fed niece. xx
The story of the week for August 3 to 7 is…
Leo Season by Sarah Sorensen
Mushrooms sprouting in the sky. Clouds of doom. People running. Screaming. Praying. The scientist opens her eyes. Blinks away the ancient image. Keeps digging. Bottles another sample. The team hovers over the dirt. Hazmat suits. Plutonium isotopes still linger in the soil. Chemical fingerprints mark the scene of the crime.
Leigh Therriault writes and wonders from Ottawa, Canada. Her debut novel for young readers is forthcoming from Orca Book Publishers in September 2027. Read more at leightherriault.com.
I grew up curious.
Where do clouds come from?
Why do lightening bugs light?
How do planes fly?
Through the years, my imagination flourished.
Now, with instant answers just a click away,
will our children lose the magic power of imagination?
Will they know more, and wonder less?
Will we?
Carol Huebsch Reeves loves the fun, freedom and challenge of writing Flash Fiction. Her stories are frequently found in Fifty Word Stories and Flash Fiction Magazine. She often writes of the blessings and vicissitudes of aging. Her memoir All the Little Miracles was published in 2022. Tiny Treasures, a collection of fifty word stories, was printed in 2025.
My father played H and G with a blank tile between. HAG, he said.
I’d thought HOG. I wish he’d played HOG. I could’ve gotten a double word score with GIZMO or WAZOO or ZIPPO.
HUG didn’t occur to me until the next day. He probably never thought of it.
Laura Nagle’s flash fiction and poetry have recently appeared or are forthcoming in The Sunlight Press, HAD, Trash Cat Lit, and the Irish-language journal Aneas. Her translations from French and Spanish include Prosper Mérimée’s 1827 hoax, Songs for the Gusle, and Adela Zamudio’s 1913 feminist novel, Confidences.
In the too large chairs at the doctor’s office, we waited. Grandmother and I, paging magazines. They were so full of things to want. So, I’d point and she’d quietly tear. In my hand, a kitten or flower. She gave me everything, my grandmother. Tiny pockets jammed with crinkled paper.
Sarah Sorensen (she/her) MA, MLIS is a queer writer based in the Metro Detroit area. She’s honored to be named a 2025 Best Small Fictions author and runner-up in the 2025 RockPaperPoem Poetry Contest. Sarah’s poetry chapbook, Light Splits Down the Wolf’s Tooth is now available through Bottlecap Press. Find out more at sarahsorensen.carrd.co.
He hung on all through the summer, autumn and winter. Getting thinner and weaker as the days passed.
Then on the first day of March, the first daffodils appeared and some fragrant purple lilacs.
But he’d gone already. If only it hadn’t been a leap year, he’d have made it.
It was a dark and stormy night many years ago in the city of London when Colin set off on his bicycle to ride around the world. He only made it as far as Hong Kong where he found work as a copywriter and is still planning his ride home.
Lost in the forest, she found lanterns glowing with her past. One showed her father’s smile, another a friendship she abandoned. None offered directions, only choices. She walked forward without certainty, realizing maps confine. The lanterns faded, but their light remained, guiding her toward freedom in the unknown.
Saroj Kumar Senapati is a retired government officer and independent writer based in Bengaluru, India.
Bob’s heart was a fishbowl with castles inside it, his dreams of fame popping at the surface like air bubbles. When the man came to his door with a gun, asking for the money he owed, Bob squirted salt water into the air, the splash making ripples on our wallpaper.
Meg Pokrass lives in the Scottish Highlands. Her work has appeared in numerous literary journals including New England Review, Electric Literature and Five Points. She’s the founding editor of Best Microfiction.
The man at the library blows bubbles from a wand; children can chase it in the sunlight. The man at the library sits, daily, with one overstuffed bag. The man at the library is the glorious statue in the wind, who has no home.
Sometimes he’ll sing, welcoming others in.
Angela Carlton’s fiction has been published in Every Writer, Everyday Fiction, 6S, 50 Word Stories, Spillwords Press, and Paragraph Planet. In 2018, her story “The Roommates,” was made into a short film. In 2023, her story “Swallowed,” was nominated for the Pushcart Prize. See more at Angela Carlton Stories & Art on Facebook.