Tag: Flash Fiction

Day 25: Finding Where by Roger McKnight

On the 25th Day of Christmas Roger McKnight gave to me… “I’m only 22, but longing for home,” Vet Tech Cranny Barlow said uncertainly to a middle-aged customer across the counter.  Both glanced out at a beginning snowstorm sweeping Minnesota’s stubble cornfields.  “Me and Carlo here.  We’re both good to go.” Denise Mannery had emerged

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Day 24: Purple Is For by Erik Bergstrom

On the 24th Day of Christmas Erik Bergstrom gave to me… They were walking down their quiet city street, their arms interlaced, two days before Christmas. It had yet to snow. They were both seventy-two years old this year; Hazel a retired teacher, Ernie a part-time woodworker. They’d come through another year and were happy

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Day 23: The Wise Man by Rachael Smart

On the 23rd Day of Christmas Rachael Smart gave to me… He was a wise man because he went to wet the baby’s head wearing a hessian sack smock, came home serious about calling him Jesus. He was a wise man because he’d seen her ex-ex-ex in The Playwright and knocked the bold out of

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Day 21: Eight Treasures Rice Pudding by Annie Bien

On the 21st Day of Christmas Annie Bien gave to me… Mommy lifted the lid. The sweet aroma of sticky rice filled the kitchen. “You girls couldn’t be more different. Your sister wants everything American: a white fake tree, cotton snow, ornaments, wrapping paper, colored lights. That costs money. Is she mad because she thinks

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Sinking Correctly by Thomas Benfield

Being in the other room, I could only imagine the look of the events that might match the sounds I heard. The sound was as much a distraction as sitcom walls teetering when its prop door shuts— bringing any semblance of alienation that the program might have brought to the world of the viewer also

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Day 20: Middle of Nowhere by Marie Day

On the 20th Day of Christmas Marie Day gave to me… Marnie’s all in white; a celebrity ghost of Christmas past, hammering on my door at two in the morning. ‘Don’t worry, no one’s died.  Except mebbe me career.’  She stumbles over the stone step into the house.  The whiff of white wine and Black

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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 17: Loss Prevention by Sandra Cimadori

On the 17th Day of Christmas Sandra Cimadori gave to me… It’s not like we sell anything anyone really needs. This stuff is the discounted excess of upscale department stores. It ain’t life or death. I do my job, Loss Prevention Specialist, but I’m not about to risk getting punched or maybe even shot confronting

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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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