“Miranda woke in the dark, swamped by a puddle of warm and limp child-limbs. Her husband was snoring on the far side of the bed, but both of her sons were drawn in their sleep to her body only, the motherbody, their arms and legs reaching for the throbbing of her heart alone. She slipped […]

“He guessed at her name. Beth, Yvonne, Kendra, Lisa. He thought about her in the shower. He thought about the pearlescent shampoo in his palm being the glob of spit that launched from her mouth onto the concrete. He imagined how she would look folding his laundry. He imagined dancing with her to David Bowie, […]

Two new flash fiction at Wyvern Lit today, including “Feast Your Eyes,” which was a finalist in Wyvern’s first Annual Flash Fiction Contest! From “Sixteen Golden Staircases”: “Sixteen golden staircases, sixteen golden staircases she chants, a breathy croon, the soft sibilances snagging on her gappy mix of big-girl and little-girl teeth and escaping like tumbly […]

“Contrary to popular belief, mermaids do not all want to sit around topless on rocks brushing their hair. When I met Jimmy, he gave me the Guns N’ Roses T-shirt off his back. I said to him For this I will be forever grateful, and that was the truth. I had a hard time believing that […]

“Catherine loved her mother’s hands, although they were not beautiful. Marjorie Blevins had hands that were too big for a woman of her slight stature, large hands all knuckle and gristle, skin raw from washing. When folks came to visit, Marjorie hid them in her apron pockets, kind of the same as how she’d hide […]

“When Billy first laid eyes on Edie McBride, she was sucking down an ice-cold Ale 8, with her sweet seventeen-year-old rump squished up against the hood of his cousin Duke’s rust-splotched ’71 Nova. The glass bottle was pearled with sweat, and she wiped it across her neck in slow motion. She was a thick-legged girl […]

“When Edie took the wash off the clothesline in the fall, she had to shake each garment in the wind, to be sure that no spiders remained in the folds. She shook each twice, three times, four. They were little, the shy white spiders with spectral faces; a soft flurry of tiny legs as they […]

I was between the morning glories and the moonflowers when it began. In the garden, unplugged, I didn't know it was the end of the world. — Nanoism (@nanoism) May 6, 2015 http://nanoism.net/2015/05/

“Little phosphorescent things curve themselves toward the surface, mingle with our belongings, rise through the pecan branches like fireflies once did. The glow is the same. He appears with fish in his hands. He cuts away the scales for me, I close my jaws on the raw flesh. The baby tumbles in my belly. His […]