Flash Fiction
-
Said and Gone
Blankets knotted under her, bunched tight like she hadn’t moved in a while. Chico lay circled like rat on the sofa, his tiny body smaller than the pink makeup bag resting on Kim’s lap. “Move,” said Brian to the rat dog. Chico uncurled, stood on his skinny legs, and barked to claim his spot. After…
-
Future Leaders
He sat in a burgundy leather chair, his fingers tracing the tight seam along the arm. A wide fireplace crackled beside him, its heat pressing softly against his freshly shaven face. Above the mantel hung a six-by-four oil painting of the club’s founder, Earl Wellington II.
-
March 31, 1999
I remember the tacky touch of plastic wrapped around the cases. My lids blink slow and heavy. In front of me, CDs are stacked in tight rows. I’m in the S section.
-
No Good Deed
She hobbled down the slope, swaddled in strips of soiled fabric. One hung loose at her side. She flipped it back over her shoulder, muttering curses to herself. Then stopped, pressed her hands to her knees and bent forward.
-
What We Leave Behind
The scent of lemon disinfectant mixed with the faint sourness of old bodies. It slipped under the door and spread through the room. From the other side of the wall, the hiss of an oxygen tank bled through, loud and steady.