Originally from the Deep South, Elizabeth Rosen now lives in small-town Pennsylvania where you can find her wherever books congregate. Her work has been published in North American Review, Baltimore Review, Flash Frog, Pithead Chapel, New Flash Fiction Review, and… Continue Reading
By the end of the road trip we were all exhausted and none of us wanted to be there. There was only one night left before our long drive home. My son was ten and refused to do anything other… Continue Reading
As he entered the coop the rooster stood its ground. Standing in the corner of the cold pen having pecked itself raw, the bird didn’t look right. Stacks’ first thought was human error. He knew all too well, the natural… Continue Reading
It’s not rational for a man to hate his legs, but Marc does. He miscalculated the length of the gap and the height of the hill, but every day, he accuses us of betraying him. Marc tries to flex our… Continue Reading
The three of us are sitting on a wooden swing, watching the clouds on the surface of the lake. The chains creak with our every motion. Our son, Percy, is sitting between us. He loves fireworks and is patiently waiting… Continue Reading
1. Five flowerpots on the patio. All the flowers are dead. Geraniums, petunias, lobelia. I kept forgetting to water them. I think my mind is too full to remember such things. It’s a shame. The flowers were pretty. 2. The… Continue Reading
He was cleaning out the bathroom when he saw the vibrator. Its pink-purple color vibrant against the white drawer. He picked it up and sighed while he studied it. He walked into the bedroom, where four piles sat at his… Continue Reading
On the train between Newton Abbot and Topsham, Jimmy Vincetore was thinking about the same journey he had made the previous week, same line, same stops, same time of the night. The main difference was that last week he had… Continue Reading
Kyva rode into town on the Equinox, rounding on the throughway just as Milan finished deconjuring the holospirits. He’d pulled apart each line of code methodically, to ensure no malware could spawn in their wake, and the shimmering whales and… Continue Reading
Friday night I played another piano bar. If you’d told my younger self that all those years of practice would amount to this… Well, I probably would have been ecstatic, to be perfectly honest. But I was young and dumb… Continue Reading