Flash Fiction

Surfer

We asked the 911 lady—Evie—about the weirdest call she ever got.

ANTI-VENOM

I scream, waving her off with a bronzed arm that spent all of yesterday in the surf and the sun.

Selfies

When you laugh it’s genuine. I can see it in the crinkles around your eyes.

Corcovado

My words in comparison felt like roasted mud cracking in the sun.

Gang Gang

I am Buddha, without desire. But if they want to hang, will even the Buddha say no?

I’m Sorry for Your Loss

I busy myself at the buffet table, straightening dishes of soggy pasta salad and toothpick-skewered salami cubes.

Mike

Maybe that’s why Tim invites Mike to his concert off the coast of Spain.