Tagged with #fiction


"Race Condition"

A short piece from a prompt: “The war started with a typo.” It started on the eastern border. A hole in the middle of the road. Someone said it was a sinkhole. Someone said it was an unexploded shell, from years ago. It didn’t matter. They came to …



Flash, no. 1

I pry the ring off my finger in the Jet Blue lounge. I leave it on the cocktail napkin next to my empty glass. I raise my hand to the woman at the other end of the bar. Her eyes are chilled hunger. A twenty covers the bill, and covers up the ring. I leave the …



Strangers are friends I haven’t met yet. Drop me a line.