Every time Paul thought about asking Annie to marry him, he remembered the time when he was seventeen and that blonde girl on the beach had offered him a lick of her ice cream cone.
Annie had never once offered him as much as a peek at her checkbook balance.
Chelan Kingfisher lives on beautiful Orcas Island in the Pacific Northwest. She both fuels and exhausts her days navigating the uncertainties of seeking happiness in the tiny things of life.
Old Mr. Walker tallied twelve sixth graders fiddling with phones, seven chatting, two shoving each other, and zero displaying any interest in the ancient artifacts. He sighed. As the teacher’s aide led the class into the next gallery, Mr. Walker remained behind, receding into the shadows among the other relics.
Tracy Royce’s work appears in 101 Words, Blink-Ink, The Dribble Drabble Review, Five Minutes, and elsewhere.
If I had power to save that hour
I wouldn’t be time’s slave.
Each hour is lost and time’s the cost
I’ll pay to reach my grave.
The hours accost and each has bossed
my sinews, heart, and soul
and each I’ve crossed left me time-tossed
within life’s salad bowl.
Ken Gosse usually writes whimsical, rhymed verse. First published in First Literary Review–East in November 2016, later in Pure Slush, Home Planet News, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Spillwords, and many others. Raised in Chicago suburbs, now retired, he and his wife live in Mesa, AZ, with rescue dogs and cats.
Old and wizened, I stare down at my village as though through a jeweler’s loupe. Pink geraniums, moody velvet fuschia, and bigleaf hydrangeas peeking like incredulous heads begem the pathways that glow gold in the evening light. I have done good in my lifetime, but it has come too late.
Gabriel Tigay lives in New York City.
My notepad is full of poems about love, back from a time I didn’t know much about it (though I thought I did), but love must be learned by living through its highs and lows, my notepad growing as I grew to find myself this grown man writing about love.
Ran Walker is the author of over 40 books, most of them microfiction. He teaches creative writing and lives in Virginia with his wife and daughter.
At the eye doctor, the receptionist asks, “Primary care doctor?”
Blankness. She has to look it up on her phone.
Later, picking up her prescriptions, the girl behind the counter says, “Phone number?”
Again, blankness.
If she were twenty-five, she’d laugh – just an off day.
She is seventy-five, and afraid.
Jennifer L Freed is author of When Light Shifts, inspired by the aftermath of her mother’s cerebral hemorrhage. In the 2025 Eric Hoffer Awards, the book was a finalist for the Medal Provocateur, won second place in the Legacy Non-fiction category, and was short-listed for the grand prize. Please visit jfreed.weebly.com to learn more.
It’s a sight to behold, that slick of teenagers commuting home from the beach. All salt-encrusted eyelashes and lobstery shoulders, screeching like a murder of crows.
Time travelling. My youth—I can almost reach out and touch it.
The train window reflects my denuded reality… but I’m still 1985 inside!
Gabe has been writing and editing for 30 years, from her home base in Sydney, Australia. She doesn’t plan on being replaced by AI any time soon.
You laughed when I said I wanted to be a tree.
Time and age chewed on my youth, wrinkles turned my smooth skin to bark, and my bones creaked when the wind blew hard. You planted me deep down.
Our great grandchildren laugh in my shade.
Jenna is a religious fanatic, a marriage fanatic, and a motherhood fanatic. She has too many farm animals and not enough farm in Houston, Tx with her husband and three beautiful, brilliant babies.
I don’t remember my first steps. Home movie cameras, with their herky-jerky pictures, were rare, and seldom on hand at such moments. Instead, my earliest memories are me, running, skipping, twirling and jumping—actions that came as naturally as breathing—all gifts I thought would last forever. Silly old me.
A prolific writer, Carol Reeves is loving the fun, freedom and challenge of Flash Fiction. She frequently writes about the privilege and vicissitudes of aging. Her stories are frequently published in Flash Fiction Magazine and 50 Word Stories. Her memoir, “All the Little Miracles,” was published in 2022.
An 80 year old retired oncologist has a fall, sustaining two fractures and a brain bleed. My three year old routinely gallops across our living room and only sometimes slips, swiftly rising to smile sweetly and say “I’m fine.”
What is life, other than the distance between these two falls.
Naazia Azhar is a physician, writer and mom of four. Her work has been featured in The Intima journal and Pulse – voices from the heart of medicine.