Brevity Editor-in-Chief Dinty W. Moore and Social Media Editor Allison K Williams, author of the forthcoming Seven Drafts: Self-Edit Like a Pro, discuss the joys and struggles of virtual literary citizenship and how writers can build community, even via webcam and Zoom account. Tomorrow is the final day for an Early Bird Discount on Rebirth […]Building… Continue reading Building Literary Community in Hard Times — BREVITY’s Nonfiction Blog
Category: flash fiction
Jots – flying thoughts
Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love posits that idea snippets are whizzing through the air for anyone to catch. Someone is bound to write it down! Some examples follow of phrases I collect in my phone notes or in my journal. In case you were wondering what one writer finds interesting about the thoughts… Continue reading Jots – flying thoughts
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 hear down there, still faintly going? Will it be nasty-cold in the kitchen? I make a move to check. First, warm pants. Yesterday’s double black stretchies will do, underwear still in, just as I had… Continue reading The Day Off: 4am
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 would bother me, were it not wet and needing to freely drip on the hardwood floor by the baseboards. This would bother me, but for the carelessly lain pink scarf inadvertantly pooling, sopping beyond its mohair fringe. This would… Continue reading ocd vestibule
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 though the window. Lovers entwined, ecstatic kiss. Every angle a blissful depiction. Feeling worse, I exit to the sloping street. Wander, wander, wander. Then a barrel-shaped wagon on a pedestrian triangle. Bright colors, purple red,… Continue reading Gypsy Wagon
Little Medea
No one bemoaned her fate so epically as that 4 year old in the Trader Joe's.
