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FLASH FICTION

I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream by Chelsea Stickle

July 23, 2021

  There is a town at the edge of things where women hold in their screams. They die young: high blood pressure, heart attacks, strokes, cancer. The girls watch their mothers and grandmothers and aunts play Ring Around the Rosie,…

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Mother, Prey by Tara Isabel Zambrano

July 9, 2021

  I was ten when I discovered I had a womb. It bloomed red. The same year I learned about space. Booster rockets to escape gravity, separated and lost forever. My mother bagged items in a grocery store, Mary, an…

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A Girl Is Grown Like a Poem Is Grown by Abbigail N. Rosewood

June 18, 2021

  A girl is trained first and foremost to satiate and please, to induce salivation from: boys, men, priests, teachers, plumbers, fathers, brothers, dogs, occasionally horses.   A girl is trained to survive others’ pleasures, others’ desires, her own saliva…

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In Just Thirty Minutes by Jemimah Wei

June 4, 2021

  7. And They Lived Happily Ever After Every day, her father begins with the end. He draws out their meetings like he is Scheherazade, and Death the king. It’s so transparent, but June simply holds her iPhone out. Recording.…

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The Barbershop by J. Isaiah Holbrook

May 21, 2021

  On the day I turned fourteen my dad told me I was old enough to go to the barbershop on my own, even though every ounce of me wanted to remain hidden behind his broad shoulders and tuck my…

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Everything Is Haram and So Are You; or, What to Do with a Birthday Card by Arshia Simkin

April 30, 2021

  In high school, you know a girl who disappears months before graduation. One day, she stops coming to school, and you never see her again. Usually, you avoid the other Muslim kids—the ones who dance to bhangra music during…

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It Will Be All of These Things by Ruth LeFaive

April 23, 2021

  Nine of us cram into Brad O’Neill’s dad’s Buick, a girl to each lap, and Gulp’s snugging my middle before all the doors crash shut. I look back to see his tanned cheekbones; it’s really him, Gulp North, under…

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In the Winter by Puloma Ghosh

April 16, 2021

  I become quite pretty in the winter, in the dim afternoons with sheet metal skies. I line my lips with brown, burgundy, wine and whiskey stains. I crave bright fruits as though they’ll substitute the daylight—sunset persimmons, sunrise grapefruit,…

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Let’s Say, Triptych by Steven Sherrill

April 9, 2021

  Let’s say you follow her home. The barefoot girl on the corner of Union, where Nut Creek gnaws at the back steps of a church and the struggling crisis center. She cuts her own hair, with garden clippers. Let’s…

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We’re All Just Trying to Keep Our Shit Together at the DMV by L Mari Harris

April 8, 2021

  The woman sitting in front of me loudly whispers in her crying baby’s ear, “Sobby Robby, stop it. Shut up, Sobby Robby.” There’s a glob of hard dirt stuck below her right ear. Or maybe it’s a birthmark. Her…

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