Flash Fiction

Eleven

The first time I broke up with you, I got jumped on the way home by three teenagers in puffers who threw me to the ground and stomped on my face. I spent a week...

Syntropy

In bed, Morbidia consults her Magic 8 Ball, whose little blue triangle floats dramatically into view to say NO. She shakes it again. She shakes it again. She sh...

Dead Air

The station felt older at night. The walls hummed with leftover heat from the day, and the smell of burnt coffee lingered under the vents. Kaila sat in front of...

Oosterpark

One time I wrote a poem about the Netherlands. It’s all about how I took the train from Amsterdam to the sea. I wrote about the green fields and the men in thos...

Mars

We watched the man at the park give in to the intrusive thoughts. “You, you, and you. In the middle,” he pointed at the larger boys. Then to the tiny ones, “...

Queerbait

Fisherman Peter caught the gay merman with queerbait. Explicit gay content was illegal on land, even in pursuit of mermen flesh. Luckily, fishermen learned how...

sunrise

In Kenosha I fell in love with the sunrise. The lighter found my cigarette and the sugar free redbull was right beside me in the cupholder. The turf grass lawn ...

Fluffle

She lifts the lucky rabbit’s foot on her keychain and rubs it with her thumb before opening the car door, when a colony of rabbits hops out from the bushes, eac...

CRUSH DEPTH

The ping isn’t a sound you hear. It’s a sound you feel, threading its way through drywall, like a signal searching for marrow. At first, it was just static: NOA...