Tag: Flash Fiction Story

Day 29: All The Trimmings by Stephen Ground

On the 29th Day of Christmas Stephen Ground gave to me… The night they brought Billy home, Matt couldn’t sleep. Not unusual – Christmas at work was stressful, and he drank too much coffee – but when Martha woke to feed Billy at two, four, and six, Matt was watching Home Alone on repeat in

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Day 22: Holiday Definitions and Observational Notes for Mrs. Grimsby—English as a Second Language 104, by Dolma Karpo by Annie Bien

On the 22nd Day of Christmas Annie Bien gave to me… From Merriam Webster: I. Immaculate: adjective a) having no stain or blemish : pure, b) having or containing no flaw or error c) a: spotlessly clean b: having no colored spots or marks —used especially in botany and zoology # DK: Observational Note: An

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Day 19: A Tangled Melody in A Minor by Mary Thompson

On the 19th Day of Christmas Mary Thompson gave to me… As the heat rose, the angels spun, their paper-thin bodies skimming the flames like fireflies. Faster and faster, round and round. Weary of the argument, Annabel turned to watch them, these tiny, cherubic beings led by their heralding trumpeter, who was heading upwards towards

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Day 18: Joke Gift by Han Clark

On the 18th Day of Christmas Han Clark gave to me… To my father’s credit, he manages to smile as he unwraps the bejewelled starfish broach. He smiles and nods, turning it over in hands that I have always thought were too small for his frame, running his thumb across the shimmering imitation sapphire in

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Day 16: Christanukkah Eve by Linda McMullen

On the 16th Day of Christmas Linda McMullen gave to me… My parents didn’t create the Christmas-ornaments-as-Hanukkah-gifts schtick.  But Wikipedia will probably give them credit (generations hence) for the virgin birth of the double-barrel meshugga Christanukkah guilt trip: “Have you been to mass already, or –” Mom warbles, as Dad registers my empty hands and

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Day 15: What Grandpa Said by Damhnait Monaghan

On the 15th Day of Christmas Damhnait Monaghan gave to me… Chloe said, “I’m ready to post my letter up the chimney, Grandma.” “Let me read it first,” said Ruth. “But I licked it.” Before Ruth could reply, Grandpa Jim took the envelope and chucked it on the fire. It was Chloe’s first Christmas without

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Day 10: A story with a beginning a middle and an end by S.B. Borgersen

On the 10th Day of Christmas S.B. Borgersen gave to me… This story begins at first light on Christmas morning. Fingers of silver-grey pierce the spaces between the branches of the leafless maple she watches through her bedroom window. ‘Has time stopped?’ she wonders. There is no movement. No sound. No jingle of bells. Arlene

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