Raymond looked down at the pizza and thought, “I will drown my sorrows in carbohydrates. I will lose all thoughts about her in waves of garlic, cheese, dough, and golden brown cheese.” He would have chanted it out loud if his mouth hadn’t been full of a tablespoon full of ice cream. A moment later, … Continue reading Flash Fiction: What They Leave Behind

The face was horrifying, pressing out of the wall like the wall was made of plastic. It was a face in name only, covered in tentacles arrayed in a crude parody of eyes, nose, and mouth. The tentacles were long slimy things. Some ended in fingers, some in diamond shapes, some in what looked like … Continue reading Flash Fiction: The Tentacled Face in the Wall

It was the kiss that did it. It was as sweet as a cherry ice on a hot blue summer day, but it finished with the warm burn of cinnamon that made him flush with the promise of mysterious things becoming clear and present and pleasant. Her name was Astlyn, and she was wearing the … Continue reading Flash Fiction: The Bird in the Park

“Your daughter’s a natural at smithing,” old Bart told Samantha, “Just like her mother.” The girl was barely in her teens, her sweaty read hair glowing in the light of the forge like strands of fire as her arms, wiry and taut, held a glowing red filigree of ornate ironwork in the blazing, dancing flame. … Continue reading Flash Fiction: The Fire in Song