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 bananaí. Bheul, bheinn más rud é go raibh banana fágtha sa tigh. Tánn tú ag leanúint cláir Pilates ar Zoom. Agus…
11.09.2001. Sa leabharlann a bhíos nuair a chualas faoin taisme. Bhí baill fhoirne ag tuar go raibh an tríú chogadh domhanda ar na mallaibh. Bhí…
Codlaíonn mo mhac ar deireadh. Tá a chlúidín athraithe is tá scéilín léite agam dó. Bhíodh sé de nós agam féachaint 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…
Tá sí ina luí san áit ar thit sí. Bruach fuar an locha, uisce ar chomhdhath leis an sclát-spéir thairsti. Tchíonn sí scáileanna – scamaill…