TINY BUBBLES • by Ron McDougall
Sand rides up my butt. If I sit still it doesn’t bother me too much; only when the car goes over a bump do I feel itchy. I drag my hands across my wet bathing suit, still sticky from the… Continue Reading
Sand rides up my butt. If I sit still it doesn’t bother me too much; only when the car goes over a bump do I feel itchy. I drag my hands across my wet bathing suit, still sticky from the… Continue Reading
I told the officer that Jovanovic had been a union organizer before the war but nobody ever bothered him, not even once. Why’s that? “Good question,” nodded the officer and jotted down something in his notebook. “And what kind of… Continue Reading
The Adventures of Junie and Chee Junie and Chee were sitting in the grass on the shady side of her house and admiring their ant farm when Junie told him the ants tasted salty. Chee’s immediate reaction was, “You ate… Continue Reading
I’ll tell you of only one. Jeweled, sparkling, found by a shepherd at the edge of a desert. Sand fell through his fingers as he picked it up, and he wiped the jewels clean with his white cotton tunic. Each… Continue Reading
George watches Murial slurp pea soup. Murial’s wheelchair faces him from across the nursing home cafeteria filled with residents eating their lunch. Murial’s gray hair shines, but her brown eyes are vacant, and her thin lips hang open. The soup… Continue Reading
Today marks the beginning of EDF’s seventeenth year of publication. This year has been full of disruptions, and we’re still facing a move to a new web host sometime in the next week or so, but when the site was,… Continue Reading
Dear friends of EDF, We have been grieving for and will forever miss editor Rosalie Kempthorne, who sadly passed away due to cancer in July. Rosalie was a critical part of EDF for many years, first as an author from… Continue Reading
After a catastrophic failure of our website host, we’re back! Unfortunately, the host had to restore the site from a January 2023 backup — it will take some time to repost the stories published between then and now but that’s… Continue Reading
“Can I ask you a question?” his little voice echoed through the darkened corridor while they inched their way forward. “What is it, buddy?” the man asked the boy, more afraid of his inability to answer the boy’s questions than… Continue Reading
“The old orchard was good to us. Nearly 30 years,” my husband sighs. “But the replanted version will be more efficient.” He shoots me a sideways glance, his invitation to ask. “Do tell.” I smile as I angle my eyes… Continue Reading