Photo Story: Flames

By Connor Walsh
The flame framed Henry's adolescent features against an impending darkness. A fiery period endured there, ending a childhood.


By Gina L. Grandi
You say, I’ll take care of it, because packing together would hurt too much. He stacks his things: clothes, books, photos. Hire someone, he says. I’ll pay.

Three Flash Metafictions

By Pamela Painter
They want to know why some characters get long stories while they get Micro, Sudden, Flash. Why some characters get cities or towns, streets, homes with dog houses and dogs that howl in the night.

Dinty W. Moore: Writing Essays with Brevity

Dinty Moore discusses how his many professions formed him as an author, the role of "divine dissatisfaction" in art, and what's creative about creative nonfiction.

Danny Boy

By Dinty W. Moore
My father was known throughout our neighborhood for his honey-rich tenor, his mastery of Irish-American songs, and Sinatra standards.

Photo Prompt: Door No. 1, Door No. 2

By Eric Skinner
When He asks, Elizabeth chooses Room #2. There, she rides the bicycle hell-fire down steep hills, her red hair the color of mercurochrome covering wounds.


By Rosemary Birkholz
My sister is living in Shanghai on a temporary work visa. We text when she’s having her coffee and a bowl of congee and I’m getting ready for bed.

When I Was Twenty-one

By Dan Sklar
In the end she stayed in her ratty white bathrobe, strummed her guitar all day, smoked cigarettes, ate apple pie from the box, quit taking showers.

One Man’s Patriot

By Ned Randle
Her trip to England didn’t go well. As her return ship scudded past the Statue of Liberty, the baby sloshed in her belly.

Photo Prompt: Person in a Box

“Mwahaha, I’m a robot!” I yelled, voice muffled through the cardboard.
“Robots don’t say ‘mwahaha,'” he whispered next to me. “They say 'beep-boop.’”

Streets at Night

By Lee L. Krecklow
We took to the streets and to the rooftops high on inhalants and high on each other and high on ourselves.


By Eric Prochaska
The first warm breath mitigates her melancholy. I sustained my young love through another winter.