And the Editors’ Choice Is… “Uno” by Liam P. Dando Congratulations to Liam. Secret Prize If you don’t know about our weekly book giveaway, now is a good time to know about it. I buy one lucky reader a book *every single week*…it’s pretty simple stuff. You just have to check your email… Get Flash Fiction…
Writing Contest - Issue 18
Below you will find all stories that were submitted for this contest.
Necessities
By Jim Byrnes
The clerk stared at me as I dropped my purchases on the counter. I said, “Get on with it. None of your damn business.” As he rang up my items, he averted his eyes. He started to perspire, his hands shook, and he was hyperventilating. Despite his discomfort he rang the disinfectant, gauze, and Band-Aids…
Robot Love
By Marchell Dyon
Yesterday I found my soulmate among the gigabytes. Courier type was his face. Among the blue app-filled screen, my tick tock heart lost its time. My metallic hands sweated oil, these yellow eyes of mine started to blink stars, and I couldn’t function. “Let’s betray our human masters, leave our housework till tomorrow, and take…
Ephemera
By Werthworld
We crave to carve permanence from the elusive present. Etching daily reminders, we cling to children’s crayon drawings, ticket stubs, t-shirts, photographs, and videos. Our memories remain faint and fleeting. Desiring durable monuments, we inscribe gravestones, chisel statues, and dedicate parks, public buildings, and entire cities. Nonetheless, cemeteries are forgotten, buildings fall, parks are redeveloped,…
Numbers Game
By William Shaw
Sesame Street was surprisingly accurate in its depiction of vampires. The capes and fangs are true, but so is the maths obsession. That’s why a circle of salt works as protection. They spend so long counting the individual grains they don’t have time to eat you. I’ve tested this statement, and can confirm. The creature…
Contract Labor
By Travis Barrett Glasgow
I wait curbside in the Lowe’s parking lot. I’ve been refused worse jobs, but I have to eat. I have to pay my fourth of the rent at the studio apartment. At last, a truck pulls up. The driver asks if anyone wants work. We start boarding the truck bed when the white driver puts…
Heat
By Jeffrey A. Paolano
The enthralling flame, as it consumes paraffin-soaked paper, excites Punch. “Spread the fire, ya damn fool, or we won’t be paid!” shouts Brack, as he scurries about spraying kerosene. Punch holds off, enjoying the flame-induced gut churning. Brack raises the sprayer and swings to locate Punch, accidentally soaking him and creating a conflagration. Quickly Brack…