Twelve and my breasts begin their slow swell, moon-bright in the seventh month of my slumber. This strange sheen, as within the begonia’s waxy heart, my neck spreading its blush when, in front of my…
Browsing Category Flash Nonfiction
I Hide When the FedEx Man Parks Outside my Apartment
I do not want him to see me sitting in my recliner by the window. Only I am aware of this secret—that I ordered furniture online because it would be too heavy for me to…
Describing the Jordan XI Space Jams with My Eyes Closed to a Blind Man Over the Phone While Working at Foot Locker
I got you. These joints clean, bruh. Clean. Classic too. Jordan introduced these joints during the 1995 Eastern Conference Finals vs the Orlando Magic. Bulls lost that year. I know. Rodman wasn’t there yet. They’d…
Weather Patterns By Kathryn McMahon
This Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, we will be featuring the winners from last month’s flash contest, held in conjunction with the AWP festival in Portland. Entries were received in paper form during the three days of…
Haibun: Bashō’s Last Journey by Stephen Cloud
Late autumn, a day of mist and rain keeping me indoors. I think of Bashō at the outset of his final journey: taking up the walking stick, crossing the threshold. All day long I have sat by the window watching rain, reading The Narrow Road, strumming the guitar. Outside, dead leaves have piled up, vines have lost their bloom. In a nearby field, cranes pick through harvest remains without concern for the downpour…