It started with butterflies. Wings splayed and restrained. Proboscis coiled, but dormant. The softness, hardness, softness as the pins popped the abdomen, the innards, the felt. The crisp crack of Styrofoam. The tints of them,…
Browsing Category Flash Fiction Feature
Realities That I Now Recall
After school, Damon reached into the pocket of his rain jacket and showed me a fragment of his mother’s bone, as smooth and white as a swan feather. I had never seen a human bone…
Revolution of the Bean
A flash thunderstorm hits Millennium Park. Tourists scatter as though coming under sniper fire. Some run towards the Pritzker Pavilion for shelter. Others flee in the direction of Michigan Avenue. You join a crowd taking…
Bill for the Second Line
Eight months after the accident, and I still call every night. Her scent, like roasted pears and cinnamon, has evaporated from the linens. Long strands of red hair which once coated our flat, now belong…