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Flash Fridays: Watching Sandra Be Loved By God, by Frances Lefkowitz
My manager is waist-deep in God, which is where I want to be.
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 1
Carry Me, by Joseph Riippi
In the Apennines, he said. In the war, our patrol. A man of our unit took a shot to the gut.
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 1
Flash Fridays: Safety, by Mary Miller
He makes dinner while I sit at the two-top and watch. He lives in a house with three other people and a dog, a compost pile and various recycling bins. They hang their clothes on a line to dry, eat a lot of quinoa.
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 4
Once A Noted Writer of Avant-Garde Science Fiction, He Now Supports Himself Writing Restaurant Reviews For A Los Angeles Weekly, by Zak Smith
I have known chinamen. They are not all wheedling and gormless.
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 2
Us Reaction, by Blake Butler
The wires had been fed into my father’s face. We stood around and watched him take it, and the white was gray really and I was older than I’d meant to be and there was no way now to stop.
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 1
Maybe The Mountain, by Paul Lisicky
It wasn’t easy to live in the woods, especially when we wanted the light on our heads. If only to know shoal and wave and dune.
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 0
Quicksilver, by David Long
One sticky afternoon, early in his marriage, Nat and his crew mates were gutting a tall-windowed lecture hall in the old chem building when, prying apart sections of lab table, he dislodged a long-hidden globule of mercury, which plopped into his bare hand.
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 0
Chromosome T, by Amy Scharmann
My son kissed a pig at the petting zoo through the wire fence. I took him to the doctor because the pig’s nose was wet, and I’m a worrier.
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 1
Gisant [laid out], by Gwenaelle Aubry
“The telephone rang. I think it was already nightfall. The police were waiting for us outside my father’s building. They didn’t leave me alone with him.”
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 1
The Old Way, by J.F. Glubka
I speak of that home we made in the mountains before the big war, when things were done different.
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 0
On Light, by Seth Fried
God said, Let there be light.
And the young man standing before him wanted more than anything to ask, What’s light?
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 3
The Circumstances Of My Birth, by Michael Kimball
My mother and father told me that I had been born during a violent tornado and that they drove through the windy streets to the hospital
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 1
Life on the Moon, by Douglas Watson
Well, so there’s life on the moon. Little spiderlike things, they say—a marvelous discovery.
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 4
Phonics, by Kristen Iskandrian
I was made to determine the intentions of the letters. What were they getting at?
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 1
Savannah Considers Her Face, by Steve Almond
Years later, after she crashed her Corvette into a tree and there was nothing but blood and a pale worm of cartilege where her nose had been, Savannah would think about Mission Viejo…
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 1
Miracles, by Lucy Corin
WE WATCHED OUR FATHER take the jar out to the patio on the day we had been waiting for since he put the spider into it with its egg sac.
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 1
Pedestal, by Diane Williams
He had chafing and I’m not having luck with anything I’m using. We had agreed to meet where they know me. The server put drinks down.
Posted in Flash Fridays
Comments: 1