If I died and rotted away, my cat would nestle inside my ribcage. The smell of his food would linger on me.
Archives for posts with tag: prose
Robots pack them into shelves, suctioned to fit closer. Tubes feed containers for 12 years. The cacti kill when unpacked.
S. Kay (@blueberrio): Now with ‘grisly sarcasm.’
Read S. Kay’s other Textofiction piece here.
Birds flush. I track their low arc, reach plaid, and fire. What don’t I now understand about whiskey and gunpowder? Almost nothing.
Barry Basden (@bbasden325) writes mostly short pieces. He’s been published here and there and edits Camroc Press Review.
She bumped into a display of cream pies. The bomb threat revealed, she disarmed it with a smile and bought bananas for the kids.
S. Kay (@blueberrio) writes tasty bite-sized fiction.
He thought she had the prettiest eyes. If only they’d blink. From the mantelpiece, they stare. In the jar, they swim.
Simon Sylvester (@simonasylvester): Cycling, climbing, writing, drinking tea and rum.
Ralphie’s purple tears began to multiply. It was sweltering. How could the kids be so picky? Guess no one liked grape popsicles after all.
Caroline Wallis (@flashficksh) just really enjoys speaking in the third person.
