Short FictionShort Fiction
Short Fiction

Couch

Jared Levy

My dad came home from work and sat on the black leather couch in the living room. He always sat in the same spot. He always looked tired. Every night went the same: first work, then couch until the ... [+]

Short Fiction

The Maestro

P. L. Watts

If he's being honest, he wishes he was at home with a Bourbon and a good book. He's never been one for pageantry. But the party is to honor him. The other retiring faculty members too, of course. But ... [+]

Short Fiction

She Don't Fade

Die Booth

There's a ghost in my house. I hear her singing.
A little girl. Why is it always a little girl?
The light through the window is barely enough to see by, but the sky outside is very pale. Clouds ... [+]

Short Fiction

Eggs

Andrew Stancek

Aunt Mila was the one collecting the eggs every morning but the chore is now mine. We have an extra daily egg since she has flown off and Grandma uses them to bake a cake every other day. Grandpa ... [+]

Short Fiction

Saudades

Susan Ayotte

For Amy
Emilio’s mother was long-practiced in the art of summoning a saint. For a burn, she’d appeal to the apostle John. It was John who got the call twice a day for a year when Emilio ... [+]

Short Fiction

Borrowed Memories

Julie Meier

Mamma always had a love for other people's possessions.
One of my earliest memories is walking to the park, my hand firmly tucked into hers. I was an impulsive child, and likely would have darted ... [+]

Short Fiction

Trampoline

Ulrica Hume

My new neighbor was a hoarder. She hoarded everything. Crystals, pink bakery boxes—she even took in children. Each one was flawed: too restless, not bright enough, a daisy-shaped head. The sound ... [+]

Short Fiction

Underground

Sara Wilson

It had been nearly fourteen years, but there you were on my morning commute. On your way to work like nothing had happened. Both of us on our ways to work as if nothing had happened.
You looked ... [+]