He encouraged the man to go back. Just go back.
“She’ll be there,” he said. “Go back.”
“I don’t think so,” the man said.
His blue jeans were nearly black with slime. His flannel shirt was a cold film of sponge around his body.
“What’s the worst that can happen?”
Continue reading Go back (flash fiction)
For whatever reason, he couldn’t talk about it. That is, he couldn’t talk about it very well. He could try, and he did.
“It’s in my stomach,” he said.
“Is it pain?”
“Maybe a little. But not really.”
“I don’t know.”
“If you don’t tell
Continue reading the use of a couch (flash fiction)
It pulled him in both directions. Like taffy. Like bad earbuds. It was the story of his life.
If he used the backdoor, he could get a little walk. A little exercise around the building. And stop at the bathroom for a pee.
If he used the front, he could get in there
Continue reading the quickest way in and out (flash fiction)
It was just an email.
He was watching a video on YouTube, one suggested for him by the algorithm. It was something he would like, according to his usage. And he did. It was a pretty girl trying on hats while talking about a snowstorm in Canada and why she never learned the
Continue reading a name (flash fiction)
Something was different. They looked like eggs. They tasted like eggs. The bowl of grits looked like an ordinary bowl of grits. The toast was plain toast like many other pieces of plain toast.
And yet, after the fork touched the food, before reaching the mouth, the color of breakfast shifted, like the
Continue reading breakfast (flash fiction)
He walks down the road thinking this foot hits that crack just below the toe but this foot hits that ice just above the heel and then he does it all over again, wondering if the cold against his face will get worse around the next bend because it’s just plain cold outside
Continue reading rough, very rough, draft of almost nothing