The quick brown fox is tired of fame. What’s wrong with repeating letters? He drags his lazy dog into Llanfairpwll’s hall of mirrors to tease…
There was something about you – I think it was your eyes – that spoke to my soul in electric lines. We sat in the…
Benjie squirmed contentedly on the rug as I tickled his tummy. ‘Don’t cry, Jacob,’ said Ada. ‘How can you stay calm? He’ll be dead tomorrow.’…
I don’t have a gun, but I have a dozen eggs, tidy in their two-rowed carton, and I have a jar of jam. I have…
The queue is out the door. Dorothy waits in a focused, vengeful way for her double order of battered cod, mushy peas, and chips. Back…
Táim ag bácáil aráin bananaĂ. Bheul, bheinn más rud Ă© go raibh banana fágtha sa tigh. Tánn tĂş ag leanĂşint cláir Pilates ar Zoom. Agus…
11.09.2001. Sa leabharlann a bhĂos nuair a chualas faoin taisme. BhĂ baill fhoirne ag tuar go raibh an trĂĂş chogadh domhanda ar na mallaibh. BhĂ…
CodlaĂonn mo mhac ar deireadh. Tá a chlĂşidĂn athraithe is tá scĂ©ilĂn lĂ©ite agam dĂł. BhĂodh sĂ© de nĂłs agam fĂ©achaint ar Netflix ag an…
Forecast – Susanne Stich We walk in the forest for hours. Bark masks us. Occasionally we call out to each other from afar, I’m here,…
Splonk has nominated the following flash stories, from Issue 2, Jan. 2020 and Issue 3, June 2020, for the Best of the Net anthology: Matt…