Category Archives: FLASH NONFICTION

FLASH NONFICTION (1000 WORDS OR FEWER)

Smoke

Smoke

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They’re prepping him for surgery now. IVs inserted in matchstick veins, secured with tape, fluids dripping at a hypnotic rate. “You’re going to feel a prick,” the nurse alerts him as she aims yet another needle at him like a dart. I am a prick, he thinks.more

Two Stories

Two Stories

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Let me pretend that my dad didn’t storm our house, kick our front door until it caved in, nor did he stab it with a steak knife. That as I peered outside, barefoot and confused, the police officer hadn’t noticed me. Pretend I didn’t see my mom holding her head in her hands and rocking back and forth, and that I never heard her say, he’s going to kill us, he’s going to kill us.more

Four Stories

Four Stories

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The day after you died our son watched Star Trek. I thought it was odd because he never had before. The episode was about an invisible spaceship entity that wanted to die. The crew of the Enterprise had to give up trying to save it.more

Two Essays

Two Essays

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Here is the wish I’m ashamed of—that you were the type of grandparent who had a fun nickname like Papa or Gramps, who came to my dance recitals, who called me on my birthday. Who would have intervened, gotten to know me, before it was too late and dementia stole all but your oldest memories. Leaving me with the responsibility to build this relationship that had never fully bloomed. more

Some Heavy Lifting

Some Heavy Lifting

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Thrusting your own weight means thrusting a lot. Thrusting because of how it affects your body, not just by changing it, but putting it in proximity with other thrusting bodies. Thrusting because no weight on a bar feels heavier than lonesomeness in your abdomen.more

Our Father

Our Father

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Our father studied geology and psychology. Was a science teacher, until students proved alien. A stint in the Air Force as potential NASA pathway. Gravity defeated him, exacted its price for warp speed.more

(Don’t Fuck With) My Hair

(Don’t Fuck With) My Hair

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I prayed to the Hair Gods, and they, in their mysterious follicle wonder, sent me an angel dressed in DOC tans with a lazy eye who offered shampoo and conditioner.more

Kiddie Militia Member

Kiddie Militia Member

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My daughter ambles away from the little boy carrying two toy guns and a toy crossbow in a tiny toy holster, calling “Hey, hey” to her at the playground beside the bay. I usually encourage her to introduce herself, explain what she’s doing and invite other kids to join in, but today I don’t.more

L’appel Du Vide

L’appel Du Vide

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The man sent thinly veiled declarations of love, and detailed accounts of his struggles with unmedicated depression, with his hopes for improvement pinned squarely on my mother returning his affections. But when I asked what had become of him, she simply shrugged. The letters stopped coming.more

THE GIFT OF SIGHT

THE GIFT OF SIGHT

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At this moment I am choosing to see because I know that even if I choose not to, even if I close my eyes or look away, everything will still be there, and if I miss ugliness then I’ll miss beauty, too.more