Flash Fiction

Knee-deep in the yarrow and saw grass, I’m sweating it out on Old John Slade’s property. After school. 75 cents an hour. Bobby Slade cuts me a check every other Friday. “Avoid running that tiller into the slops, boy,” Bobby … Continue reading →

These are the objects that have meant the most to me in my life: 1. A Stall & Dean model 8141 baseball glove It was the same model Ty Cobb used. Cobb’s mother killed his father as he was sneaking … Continue reading →

Up that grade had never seemed so long, around switchbacks in and out of moonlight and cliff shadow. Doing it on a full-moon night wasn’t such a bright idea. Maybe Lance wasn’t thinking right. Tilton didn’t consider that somebody might … Continue reading →

That winter, the last of the war, the river froze over and stray dogs died where they lay. The scarcity of wood meant that fires could only be lit for a few hours a day. Even in the wealthy quarters … Continue reading →

He did everything he knew to do. He kept her nylons hanging over the bath. Sprayed her perfume on the sheets, the scent choking at his throat every time. Played her narodna, Bosnian country music tapes whenever the electricity worked. … Continue reading →

Flathead Screwdriver Highway 93 took its frenulum curve between the jaws of the Mission Mountains, down the valleys throat to the southernmost reaches of Flathead Lake. Polson, Montana. It was a little after ten in the morning. The day was … Continue reading →

  After a long walk the two girls, named Lib and Jenny, began to get hot and sweaty, their sunburned faces dripping, so they took to walking in the ocean up to their knees. It was the first Saturday in … Continue reading →