Tag Archives: flash fiction

There’s dirt, and there’s grime, and then there’s whatever lives beneath the cracked-claw fingernails of Arnold K. Sprouse, the fat man who everyone was sure had been a child at some point, who forever twitched or itched at the boils beneath his skin. Worse yet, Arnold was the kind of scrounging sort of thing thatContinue reading “Bait and Twitch”

We’d already been going there for weeks. And we’d learned a few things about that old house, the tall thin one with too many stories it seemed. Like how we all felt safer in one room with all the doors closed, or that it was better to light three candles than one. Or that if meContinue reading “Lita”

Alone in the middle of a dark stage, our night’s starlet looks out over a quiet crowd of empty seats, listening to the faint echo of future cheers. Every night’s show will begin with her, there, dramatically poised against rows of wooden beams and branches centre-stage, these meant to look like trees and buildings andContinue reading “Stage? Right.”

A short fictional commentary on red and blue politics published in 2020, relevant again now in 2025.

Baths haven’t been allowed for a long time ‘cause there isn’t enough water. But I’ve been saving my rations a whole year for a real good cause. My sister, Sana. It’s not that she’s dirtier than the rest of us or anything. We’re all yucky and smelly and hungry. It’s more ‘cause the stuff she’sContinue reading “Share”