Tag: flash fiction
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The Wall in My Therapist’s Office
At the end of every appointment, I drag myself from her office, walking past the vibrant banners. Each flag is illustrated with its own colors and flown by its own people. Like a lighthouse, they guide the lost home. Like a moon on the water, they create peace amongst the chaos of the world. The…
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“Buddy”
Between the wire-barbed bar, lens cap of his life, he can see a worker approaching his cage. This time, she does not offer him food. She reaches for the sign above his cage (“Puppy for Sale”) and pulls it down, the replacement already under-arm. “Dog for Sale; Marked Down.” Partially paid for by what it…
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Tell Us How You Feel
I’m sitting on a city bench, running on empty. Whatever vividness used to live here has just. Burned out. That space of empty space. Lost in something I have lost. It’s a feeling not like ice, but ash asking, “Where do I go from here?” And then staring at the ground beneath my feet. Losing…
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When We Are Reclaimed
Slow-dancing to jazz, they waltz down the street, framed by an orange sky. It’s the end of the world; the cries of deep voices mix indiscriminately with shrill ones, reverberating endlessly down the road. Dark figures, veiled in the unknown of shadow, watch from buildings far back as the lovers dance across the asphalt. The…
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Contact
Thirty-seven. When the eyes scour the photo, they will notice, however unconsciously, that the photographed hands hold each in thirty-seven places. No matter whose eyes look at it, no matter what species will find the photo, they will be amazed by it. On the deserted planet of the worst people during their worst time, the…
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Wishes of Sugar and Insulin (Varies by the Day)
She’s sitting by the fire, drawing with a pencil and crayons. Her phone (though she wishes it was a dog) whines at her side, begging for notice. My service dog is hungry, she tells herself, flipping over to maintain the strange creature, growling and groaning. Her stomach flips as she does it, turning on the…
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Children of Earth and Sky
Even if I were to collide with the glass of the bus window, destroyed by all of the moments of my darkest hours, I can open my eyes and escape. For, beyond every pane of glass, there will always be a bird wrapped up in the melodies of its own song, perhaps hunting, drinking, bathing,…
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Their Pasture
He tilts his head up towards the sun, looking through the trees as light filters through their branches. The sheep looks around the pasture, luscious and glowing golden. He is swaying in the quiet breeze that brushes past him in a gentle embrace. He remembers many years ago, when the hurricane came through and destroyed…
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Sixty Minutes Mortal
The goddess played with the elixir in her hands, watching as the liquid sloshed back and forth against the glass walls of the bottle. The golden glowing potion called her name. Temptation was always her most dangerous game but, oh, she would be lying if she said it wasn’t the most fun. A cork closed…
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Machinery
Previously published by After the Pause for their final issue. My robot greets me as I enter the kitchen. It’s shaped like a dog, and it barks, too. On a platter it carries a granola bar gone two years stale. I take a bite. Cardboard flavor. “Welcome to Day 2456,” the robot dog says in…
Hazel J. Hall 