Flash Fiction
A series of very short stories for the summer.
“The Grass at Airports”
In parks and gardens abundant in plants and flowers, the grass is nothing more than a backdrop. Only at airports, with no masters to serve and no adversaries to overcome, can it reach its fullest glory.
“Double Time for Pat Hobby”
On the day that Pat met Jim Dasterson in the barrier, he had less than a dollar in one pocket and an ounce of gin in the other.
“Hot Spot”
He called. She answered. He was her only sibling. He’d paid to have someone deliver her citrus so that she could avoid scurvy.
“Dedication”
“After my father stopped breathing, God bless his memory, I covered his body up in blankets—and kept studying.”
“Happy New Year”
A long time ago, lots and lots of people lived on this island. Now there are only a few of us.
“The Third Premier”
He must be forever changed, we thought, entire fields of joy no longer his, every lovely thing tainted.
“The Books of Losing You”
I visited your room once to bring the book back but all we did was talk—you in shorts and me using your dumbbells. Was there a chance that night?
“The Door Between Us”
Again, I pressed my ear against the wall, but I heard nothing. Why couldn’t I have said something to her?
“The Penthouse”
We were lying on their bed. We were trying to be still and not ruin anything else. Soon we might even fall into sleep, our least disruptive state of being.