There was no oasis. No needles. Only mirages. Like the imaginary tar pit that turned his bebop jaunt into a slog. And the swarm of bees that punctured him with empty stingers. Even the music came to life in the form of a fanged-beak, blood-red buzzard that circled overhead.… more
Writer: Kip Knott
Concentric
FLASH FICTION by Kip KnottThere’s a circle of light in the middle of an otherwise completely dark room. Well, it’s not exactly in the middle, but close enough that it would take a laser’s precise measurement to show that it’s not exactly centered in the room. So let’s just say it’s in the middle and move on.… more
