FFlash Fiction When the Village Goes HungrybyAshley JeffaloneNovember 1, 2020 A sister’s dry palm in my left, a sister’s wet palm in my right, the winter wind there on my throat; we sang the songs only learned at midnight, when the ordinary and the secular slept.
FFlash Fiction The Things We Do for LovebyAvra MargaritiMarch 8, 2020 You decide I’m going to shoot myself out of a cannon this coming Sunday. “How romantic,” you coo, even though it was your idea in the first place.