Stories from
August, 2009

Eddie lost himself sitting on Father Rex’s overstuffed couch, ruminating in the dark odor of altar wine and years of premature communion.

Chris Lindgren writes bits of microcontent found scattered & hyperlinked here and there. He is mostly Norwegian & lives in Fargo, ND.

Cuddling with her toilet, Lani regrets that fifth Long Island Iced Tea.  The naked man on her bed is past caring, for which she is grateful.

C.S. Eastman (@queeninyellow) has an unwholesome love of roller derby, robot monkeys and zombies.

They scattered his ashes. The wind turned, blew the stinging ash into their eyes. ”He always had to have the last word,” his wife mumbled.

Laurie Darroch-Meekis:  world citizen, diving into the realm of writing, eyes wide open.

“Why?” he asked. “Because I hate you,” she said. She thought it was less cruel than the truth – “Because I knew I could.”

Penelope Friday writes disability articles and pornographic stories. The combination amuses her. She twitters under @penelopefriday.

Her jewelry was missing. She’d heard a noise during the night. Cat burglar? The distant meows told her she was on the right track.

Margaret Morris is a freelance writer who produces articles and content for the web. She tweets for fun; find her @LITtering.

If I draw you a purple orange, will you teach me to think like a child?

Julie Bloss Kelsey enjoys writing poetry, magazine articles, and short stories.  You can reach her @MamaJoules.

Mommy lied.  The bread didn’t have sesame seeds—it had bugs!  But the boy was so hungry, he didn’t care.

Beth Cato’s work appears in Niteblade, Crossed Genres, and Six Sentences.

Dylan got a new job manning the fryer at the In-N-Out on Ventura. He ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more.

Roland Goity edits fiction for LITnIMAGE.

Were the candles for wax play? No—romance. Suddenly she was terrified.

R. Gatwood’s work has appeared in a number of small-press publications.

That crown of thorns around your tongue? Pathetic. Look, I don’t have to agree with you. Going all dramatic like that gets us nowhere.

Errid Farland owns, a website devoted to the creation of literary flash fiction.