Category Fiction

Flash Fiction: Lavender.

00:35 The carriage was long, empty, and smelled of lavendar. Or didn’t, but her mind was full of lavender and so into her nostrils went the empty fast food cartons, the twenty-year old upholstery and the lone pigeon feather, and became lavender. Everything became lavender in there, where the sunflowers were always in the sun […]


I Turn Around To Look At You

Later, I will regret letting him take my hand in the space between our seats. I will regret letting him hope, even for a second. I will wonder if it did more harm than good, letting him believe, naively, that I could ever be a person he could lean on. But for now, there is only the two of us, the scenery racing past the car, and the music. For now, I let him anchor himself to me.

Despite My Best Efforts, I Am Real: A Story

Time shifts. Its the air, something about the air moves. Alters. You dont see it, exactly, but you know it. In your throat, where the anxiety lives. Or in your chest, where the hummingbird lives. You are walking through your kitchen door. Before you reach the steps which will take you back to your desk […]


Tampa, Fl.

“This place is something else,” the cab driver says ominously as they pull up to the motel. The girl in the back says nothing.   Dumping her overstuffed suitcase out of the trunk, he drives off quickly, leaving her standed in the parking lot. She stares at the spot the car has just vacated, eyes […]


Flash Fiction: We Swing our Legs and Don’t Inhale

Olivia tells us about sex like she knows it all and she makes me feel small with her talk. Sammy who slept with 30 men by the time she turned 18 feels small too but for different reasons, and I wonder what it is they want from us. I read all these feminist books that […]


Flash Fiction: Appetite.

Mum left before we’d been here a year. One less mouth to feed, Danny said, but he wouldn’t look at me when he said it. Danny used to cry at night when he thought we couldn’t hear, because he thinks she left him and that it makes him somehow bad. I know she was really […]


Guardian Short Story Competition

“…I wondered who he had just left behind in the prison, who was so hard to say goodbye to, and could not bring myself to ask him to leave. I let the clock tick past closing time, past my bedtime, past the two of us sitting half in silence, half in sorrow, until my head started to droop on the bar…”