Flash fiction on the passing of time — His house is sweaty; same as every summer. There’s no need for air conditioning, and he told anybody who would visit. He’d say the breeze blowin’ through the window is all you need; though he doesn’t have many visitors of late. Planting his feet firmly onto the wooden floor…

A short fiction piece — I don’t know what was so special about them. I mean, really, they are pieces of fabric hanging on the wall to block light. When I look at them now, no matter where, that’s all I want to see; plain old drapes. Maybe I was drawn to the countless smells…

Short fiction — The darkness lifts in the smallest way when I swipe the match against the box. A familiar smell of sulfur fills my nostrils as I light another candle. The electricity has been out for hours and the rain has been coming down harder than I’ve seen, and for a lot…

Short fiction — “What’ll I get ya, hon?” The question catches her so off guard she clatters her flatware onto the floor. She’d been polishing them so furiously that her sweaty palms soaked the napkin, now stuck to her fingers in white shreds and flakes. “Hon? Anything to drink for you?” ‘A beer?’…

A short fiction about who we idolise — Stepping through the front door of the two-bedroom house to realise that the roommates had gone away for the evening was like a gift from the gods. Gary was still home, of course, but that’s no different from any other time. Besides, when he hasn’t gotten himself halfway through a…

Troubling times grow more troubling in the face of government lies — Wouldn’t it have been nice if, during this Coronavirus ordeal, the government had revealed the information they actually had? …

Flash Fiction — “No. No, no, no. It’s not happening.” “Dude. Come on. Just take it,” Lance says. “I’m not taking the fucking gun. I’ve never shot one before and I’m not going to bring one with me now. What the fuck do you need that thing for anyway?” “You won’t need it…