His hands won’t stop trembling. His breath puffs out in ragged clouds that swirl and fade away, dissolving like a memory.
Category Archives: Flash Fiction
Angelina Suarez Has a Stalker
Angelina’s not worried about the letters anymore. She’s floating in the swimming pool leaking crimson ribbons that swirl like steeping tea.
An 18-Wheeler Is About to Drive Through the Back Seat of Philomena’s Hatchback
She’ll sit the rest of the day in a drowsy Taco Bell that’s the only thing open within walking distance, drink too much Mountain Dew and wonder what has changed.
Family Pot Luck is a Dish Best Served Tepid
…unlike Pete and Patty’s green bean casserole, which, like their marriage, has been in the oven far too long and is starting to break down.
Renata Cries Again
Renata loved to be sad. She positively basked in melancholy, as only someone who has never experienced real sadness could. She loved a tragedy, and we all know there’s no shortage of them to shed a tear over.
Guests in the Night
The edge of my bed is digging into the back of my thighs, and my neck aches where it meets my slouching shoulders. I deflate with a sigh. Defeat lowers himself down onto my rounded back and settles in, making his bulk comfortable. He’s heavy.
Love is Just One Side of a Two-Faced Coin
Midweek, we’d steal moments between classes, adjourning to his office, door bolted, to debrief each other. We came close to getting caught more times than I can count, but people didn’t want to see what they didn’t want to see and so we carried on.
The botched pursuit of a mate by adult males of the order Lepidoptera
It’s 2:00 am, and I’m bent over the sink, sucking mango off the stone, juice running down my forearms and dripping onto yesterday’s dirty dishes. Seventy-two moth carcasses fill the garbage can in their crumpled Kleenex shrouds.
Bah Humbug
What I wouldn’t give for a silent holy night without that snoring in the next room rattlin’ the window panes.
I Am the Deafening Silence
I am the slow spurt of water, reluctant, always too hot and always too cold. I am three hairs stuck to the shower wall in different coloured shapes and lengths that are so far from home they’ll never be un-lost.
Aly Writes 