flash fiction

And Even Still the Conch

1 Still there, on the lip of the bathtub, quiet.   2 They said we shouldn’t eat fish—none of us, anymore, as a species, because it was so full of pla...

Little Ghost

When we have our daughter, I expect her to be real. I expect her to weigh something, to hold her in my hand. The childbirth pains are so intense I think I mu...

One Milky Window

Winter nights, when Delhi is shrouded in dense fog. The other side of the bed is neat, uncomplicated. Your message on my phone: My flight is delayed. I walk ...

Driving While Dead

My children are flames. Oxygen they can get any number of ways but the most efficient is if I blow on them. My job is important—at least until they build walls ...

I’m Not Hungry But I Could Eat

I’m finishing up falafel I picked up after work when I get Valeria’s text. She’s going through it and asks if I’m free to catch up at the diner we both like. It...

The Levitation

It was a boring party, all of us standing around sipping wine and eating meat wrapped in puff pastry or pickled vegetables on toothpicks, all of us with nothing...

Flight of the Garage Men

Raymond was out in the garage, as usual. He was building something. Sawing, drilling, hammering. Just what my headache needed. When I went out to the kitchen...

Refinery Lights

The refineries at night look like a sprawling space station repair base, flares aglow against a dark sky full of choked out stars, tanks full of liquids I can n...

Kettle Pond

The bubbles surfaced before the bus arrived every morning. Marissa stood by the kettle pond, peering into the leaf-choked water. A pitch pine had snapped halfwa...

Americone Dream

I’m about to climb up into the goddamn freezer when a guy in a faded suit jacket leans over and grabs the last tub of Americone Dream from the top shelf. The fr...