The Day Off: 4am
The Day Off 4am: The smell of burnt toast awakens me. Is Matt drunk-cooking again? Is that a fan I …
Category Archives: flash fiction
The Food Bank at Christmastime
She says, “Open your bag,” and plunders the grapefruit box. Six or seven grapefruit go right on top the banana. Another line of cans. “No thank you, no thank you, no thank you,” I say to the diced tomatoes, wheat pasta and khaki frosted cupcakes.
“No sweets?”
ocd vestibule
Behind the entry bench, the van gogh blue umbrella wedged at a 35 degree angle hadn’t been wrap-snapped first. This …
Gilded Exploits
The creation and the embodiment of energy, what they’ve invested in, valued, now mingling impossibly here…
Gypsy Wagon
Will was too busy after all to attend me in Newcastle. I museum-delved without him to see a marble statue visible …
Little Medea
No one bemoaned her fate so epically as that 4 year old in the Trader Joe’s.
