flash nonfiction

The Boots

A 1977 divorce was trailblazing, and a custodial father was positively extraterrestrial. I was six.A serpentine driveway tethered our farmhouse to the count...

A Quiet Man

You should have had a raucous Irish wake, the kind you see in movies. A bottle should have been passed from mourner to mourner, each telling stories about you, ...

The Gravity of Air

We trudge through the cold as if burdened by stones. But not as if burdened. We are burdened for real, just not by stones. It’s the day’s gravity that weighs us...

Irises

I bought flowers at the grocery store even though I didn’t mean to buy flowers at the grocery store.Fresh flowers are for afternoons when you feel shiny and...

This Washcloth

There is this washcloth, white and with a textured wave pattern, that we accidentally stole from the La Quinta in Portland one spring. Z was teething and had ti...

The Moments Before We Woke

This morning I woke to a bedspread sun-stripped though the bars of your finch's cage. He jumped from perch to perch, seed poised between two sharp halves of bea...

Balk

I’d like to think it was out of genuine concern that my father pulled me away from playing with my sister’s dolls to stand out with him in the autumn air. We fa...

I’m Black, You’re Black

Hey, black male student who boldly asked me where I’m from and when I told you Wisconsin and you asked, “No, where are you really from,” as if “really” is a mag...

When Bones Grow

The jawbone is the only bone in your head that moves; it opens and closes and lets you talk and chew food. When people say something is jaw-dropping, it usually...