The wind shifted north, and the faintest shriek of metal against metal sounded as the old weathervane turned on top of the barn. Tilly, my grand-niece, shuddered on the porch swing beside me, drawing her sweater tight. “Winter’s coming,” I… Continue Reading
Even though it was dusk, Alice easily found the squeaky green iron gate that led into her back garden. She brushed aside a branch of the thick privet hedge overhanging it, trying to disentangle her long silver hair but snapping… Continue Reading
The fierce storm tossed the vessel about like a newspaper in a hurricane. Fat drops of seawater dripped into the galley where we drank. Three of us had never seen such carnage, but our captain, Collingsworth, seemed a suicidal, crazy… Continue Reading
Buzz and Candi sat in their usual spot in the far corner. They were the only regular patrons of the dilapidated coffee shop who didn’t avoid the rear booth. The faux leather seats were always sticky and people were suspicious… Continue Reading
The fiery orange sun hung high over the Bangkok skyline to the south. Professor Tina Montri rearranged her skirt and adjusted the alligator skin briefcase on her lap which held the presentation and research notes from her talk at the… Continue Reading
Listen to “Shades” by Randall Brown, read by Folly Blaine: [display_podcast] Randall Brown is the author of the award-winning flash fiction collection Mad to Live (Flume Press 2008), a collection that has been recently republished by PS Books in Philadelphia… Continue Reading
Let me tell you a story, Brigit, one I’ve never shared before. The TSA line is long but you have hours before your flight to Ireland. Closed doors are forbidden doors. The door to Gran’s room was always firmly shut… Continue Reading
“The fall of noon.” That’s what Grandfather called it. I never really understood how noontime could actually fall, but he liked to say it that way. “Evening rises,” was another. “Morning booms,” he’d greet the day. My childhood summers at… Continue Reading
“So, just to be clear, you say he didn’t wear gloves. Is that correct?” The officer sounds blasé, as if this kind of thing happens every day. “Doesn’t. I said he ‘doesn’t’ wear gloves. Are you saying he’s dead?” “I’m… Continue Reading
You were a very little girl, barely three. Your mother was traveling, far away in Sinkiang, and our routine had adjusted. I began my day before dawn at the shrine, preparing myself for the spiritual strain of the work ahead… Continue Reading