Someone stole the cage. “We’re better off without,” you say. The crow on your shoulder doesn’t speak. It knows what you are.
Michelle Fee lives in the mountains, sometimes, and writes what she finds there.
After the faeries cursed it with sentience, the radio grew tired of hearing the same tunes twice a day.
You can find Michelle Ristuccia’s writing blog at wakingdreamsblog.blogspot.com
Beauty slept, waiting for her prince. The vines wrapped around her, cradling and twining her, hiding her from view. Leaves brushed her lips.
K.C. Shaw (@saanen) lives and writes in East Tennessee. Visit her at http://kcshaw.net.
Prof Jones talked to tsetse flies. He claimed he learned their language. He was working on teaching them ours when he fell asleep.
Retired teacher Salvatore Buttaci writes daily and lives in West Virginia with his wife Sharon. He’s been published widely.
The mirror remembers for you—every scar, every dream. You look away, press into your flesh again, and forget.
@kaolinfire writes, edits, and makes websites & computer games.
The MC said the Gorgon won the beauty contest. The snakes on the judges’ heads hissed their approval.
Robert Laughlin is the creator of the Micro Award, an annual competition for previously published flash fiction.
He yearns for higher purpose, seeks meaning to his life. Then, he spies and pursues the light, eager to belong. Phutt… One more dead fly.
Len Morgan is married with two offspring and four grandchildren. He’s an artist, writer, who works as an accountant & Youth worker 9 to 9; Living in hope of more.
Noah’s family had been one broken wheel away from destitution. He took an ax to the wagon for a few days firewood.
Matthew Sanborn Smith fondly remembers living on the edge, now that he’s fallen off of it.
You are directed to fulfill your quota without sentimentality, processing all inmates. Do not query why we relocated the four-year-old girl.
Kenneth Schneyer‘s work appears in Niteblade, Flashshot and Nature Physics. He will attend Clarion 2009.
A kiss won’t make us married, she said. Just a kiss, she said. He strokes his ring. 20 years later, hers are still the only lips he’s known.
J.S. Graustein exists in California but lives in her English dreams. You can visit her @jsgraustein & http://folded.wordpress.com.