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Flash Fiction

Flash Fiction Writing

7.5.2015

The last elephant died in a zoo in Arizona, across the street from the dental office specializing in incisor implants and Novocaine overdoses. She stared across the street as ten men tried to push and pull the elephant onto an oversized stretcher while she felt her hands play inside the sandy blonde hair of the man in the chair. He let his deep set eyes finally rest under her touch,…

6 Comments
Flash Fiction Writing

car rides and conversations

We used to talk about snow cones and paper planes, now it’s birth control and pregnancy scares. How did we get here? How did we grow up and enter this world of problems we never thought we would have to face? I wonder about the conversations people have in their cars, those insular worlds that seem so private, but are really like tiny reality television shows with choose your own…

3 Comments
Flash Fiction Writing

climbing trees

I told you you were like a tree trunk as I wrapped my body around you like vines, every pore of my body shaking like quaking aspen. So solid and so big, dwarfing me in the best way. Making me feel so small with you looming over me, shoving me into the door frame and back on towards the bedroom. Both of your hands together fit perfectly across my waist,…

5 Comments
Flash Fiction Writing

but I’m hoping at the gates, they’ll tell me that you’re mine

It’s at that horrible point where I sit awake at five in the morning in complete darkness, save for the laptop screen, and see your face painted inside every song I listen to. I squeeze my eyes as tight as possible until spiders made of fractured light are crawling in the darker space behind my eyelids. This is the horrible point where I flirt with regretting all that I said…

4 Comments
Flash Fiction Writing

5.16.15

He unplugged his guitar and stepped off the stage, asking the entire audience to come stand around him as he played. As he played and sang, I could picture him so clearly in a studio apartment, liquor at his side, penning these words into a private notebook. There’s something alive in the calm strumming of folk songs, an understanding of the inherent melancholy and hope wrapped up in human life.…

4 Comments
Flash Fiction Writing

bulletproof, in black like a funeral

I told you once of how my breath melted and dripped down my ribcage. You told me that wasn’t possible and said I should stop stretching my words until they had no meaning. Unsurprisingly, my words were right and you were wrong. You turned my breath to icicles that stuck all over my vital organs and made my skin feel like the unexplored Arctic. When the lights shut off and…

3 Comments
Flash Fiction Writing

the daisies

I shut the light off and bathed in the dark. I let the black velvet water come to nearly the top of the tub until only my neck and head were left uncovered. The music that was playing embraced me like you never did, seeping down through the water and sliding across my skin. It was like an underwater cathedral in my darkened tub and my body was the altar,…

6 Comments
Flash Fiction Writing

it’s only slaughter, we’re only liars, it’s only blood

Standing in the center of concerts you realize how shottily put together the human body is. Clumsy feet, elbows that prod much too far outward, the inexhaustible scent of human sweat clinging to your clothes as the crowd ebbs and flows with the guitar pulses. I struggled against the shoulders pressing into my back and against my head, imagining my head popping like a grape in the center of the…

3 Comments
Flash Fiction Writing

Dolores on the Dotted Line

The bartender sat a swan glass full of peach schnapps in front of me and called me Lolita, though he had never read the book before. He knew enough to know I was one, he said. He knew enough to know that I knew nothing at all. With 23 years, jet black hair and a few broken hearts to my name he said I knew nothing at all. He said…

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