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Postcard-sized flash fiction about love, a trusty car and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

Forever, Until it Isn’t

The day smelled of cut flowers and suntan lotion. The finned ’85 Chevy cut a fine line down the gravel road. Cans of Bud Light bounced off the ground and took flight once we got to the main road....

Postcard-sized flash fiction about the strangeness of life, dragon slayers and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

Freda the Dragon Slayer

Freda the Dragon Slayer pushed a screwdriver into the ignition. Her arthritic hand shook and ached as she twisted the handle. The old farm truck sputtered but started. Every day the same thing, Franko the truck would moan and complain but he always came alive.   The morning was crisp and dark. The distant mountains were the purple of a ripe plumb. Freda the Dragon Slayer sat in the blowing heat, rubbed her knobby fingers and talked to Franko, “Aren’t we a lovely bunch of coconuts? Old...

Postcard-sized flash fiction about the strangeness of life and the beginning of all things and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

Ollie and Racheal

Ollie had found the truck on the side of the freeway. The ‘For Sale’ sign handwritten in the window. Five hundred or best offer, it said in bright blue marker. He called and made their best offer which wasn’t much.   Racheal had groaned and rubbed her large belly when she saw it. “How are we gonna fit a car seat in that?” But two days later, when her pains came on too fast to make it to the hospital, she had given birth to their baby...

Postcard-sized flash fiction about the strangeness of life and the end of all things and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

D for Dixie

Dixie drank moonshine from a mason jar and watched the sky crack open from her front porch. The Radioman had warned them all the end of the world was coming. He warned and warned while people rushed and ran to who knows where.   And while they ran in circles, Dixie pulled out what was left of her homemade hooch, dragged her recliner to the edge of her deck and watched stars spill out like glitter on her world. They sparkled and flared and fell like...

Postcard-sized flash fiction about the strangeness of life and dreams and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

plugged in

It was a hungry month. I ate the house empty, even the salad that turned to green soup. The ‘Apocalypse Pantry’ was all but empty but for the cases of water. I haven't left the apartment since it all started. But at some point, I opened the window. Rain came in that night, and I let it, gave a fresher smell to my unwashed stink.   I moved the kitchen table in front of our white wall, stared at the nothingness of it while loading beans and...

Postcard-sized flash fiction about the strangeness of monsters and their creators and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

The Crawler from Under the Bed

The Crawler stinks dark purple. The color of a nasty bruise. I see the haze of violet before the smell hits my nose, before my cartoon monster hisses from behind three rows of needle teeth. He’s not the first monster to come to life from the pages of my sketch pad.   There’s a wet slurp and dragging claws on wood. My teeth ache from the scraping sound. I keep drawing, faster, and messier towards the monster’s death.   Alligator claws curl over the edge of the...

scary house, halloween, October newsletter, creepy

A few thoughts on October

This will be our tenth fall in Phoenix, at least I think it is. Funny how you lose track after a while, especially when the seasons don't show up. Fall and winter in particular. So I came up with a theory that may or may not have been heavily influenced by a fairytale writing workshop I recently took.   Somewhere in the desert near a dried up riverbed that weeks before had overflowed with the waters of a flash flood...

Postcard-sized flash fiction about the strangeness of life and loss and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

hoop dreams

I dream you every night, clear as the empty bottle of gin on my table. I once thought you lived in the bottom of them, so I did my best to drink you free. Turns out you’re someplace darker, more dangerous…my head.   I see you like a memorized photo, bouncing that official sized ball in your eight-year-old hand. You saved up for months for that thing and made me shoot hoops every night. You said it was our own kind of shooting, the kind where no...

Postcard-sized flash fiction about the strangeness of life and death and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

Chinook winds

I think about moving south, away from the mountains, but the chinook winds blow me back every time. I want to run away, pretend I’m alive, but this morning, I know its too late for all that.   There’s a knock. I open the door wondering if I’m letting in the living or the dead. A girl, maybe twelve-years-old, holds out a paper lunch bag clutched in her tiny fist. Here, it’s for your trip, she says. I check inside the bag. Apples cut up neat and...

Postcard-sized flash fiction about the strangeness of beach life and Jesus and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

Sunday morning church

If we’re being honest here, I almost didn’t go in that place, all broken down and life-worn. It’s the church I’m talking about not the Reverend. He was a kid. Barely cut his teeth is what I was thinking. But he invited me in and I felt the Lord right away, in the form of the best southern-fried chicken this mouth ever tasted. Done crispy on the outside but moister than the devil’s breath on the inside.   Why they served lunch before the sermon I’ll never...