No Orange for Julius
I always told him no one would ride in a black bus. Wouldn’t listen. Threw away his money to redo the fleet. Told him the… Read More »No Orange for Julius
flash fiction
UltraMicrotome Chekhov
I was arguing in the car with my husband about his best friend. His wife had cried to me over the phone. “Can you believe… Read More »UltraMicrotome Chekhov
Transcendentalists
Being that it was sandal weather and time for her feet to reveal themselves to prospective dating partners, Bernice wondered what color to paint her… Read More »Transcendentalists
Eddie Palmieri in the Bronx
First-timers expect to see Arthur Murray standing in a striped bow-tie, but all they see is me in my 501s and a black turtleneck, and… Read More »Eddie Palmieri in the Bronx
Rae-Ann, the Trusted One (2)
Every morning after she had switched on the lights and turned up the thermostat of the Half & Half, she thanked Earl for taking such good care of her. He had been a good man; after his funeral, all the store regulars had mailed her condolence cards in tones of silver and violet that she arranged on the fireplace mantle, and for the first few months, touched each one as she walked in circles from the living room to the kitchen.
The Blood Donor’s Flash of Fiction
In the cigar smoke of an autumn day as pecans dropped to the ground, he drove his SUV to a cream-colored building at the outskirts of a university where students and others in need of fifty dollars toward a bag of groceries lined up for a number.
Houdini’s Cousin in the Storage Unit
…won Flash Fiction Friday at The Portland Review.
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