Wrap Me Up by S. Kay
The bot-written fake email is so touching, a spear-phishing campaign
nets a 15% click rate on hot malware links. People see hope in new
S. Kay writes one tweet at a time. Her debut book “Reliant” is
available for preorder at tNY.Press/reliant. Follow her at
Blue in your Face by Gary Treible
Shoes, socks, and the remote control lie on the crest of the dam. The sun shines through the dryness of September, yet the water rises.
Gary Treible is from a place that doesn’t exist any more. Seeking more substantial accommodation, he now lives in the Pennsylvania heartland surrounded by acres of Peppermint Patties, barbells, and pad mounted heat pumps. His writing focuses mainly on short works such as lists, errata sheets, addenda, marginal notes, and greeting card platitudes. He recently submitted a work to a web site.
High Roller by Rachel Dull
Steph agreed Brendan’s smoking jacket with a pocket for his vaporizer made him “classy as shit”, so she spent his weed money on toilet paper.
Rachel Dull is a professional data manager, classic over-thinker, and zealous friend. She is currently working on a novel by continually distracting herself with the quicker gratification of flash fiction.
Yellow Brick Road by Michelle Wallace
Voicemail yet again.
Cut the call.
Dump the peace offering.
Wind scatters hundreds of marigold petals.
Pop a load of pills.
Road to oblivion…
Michelle Wallace is a writer-in-the-making, on a never-ending journey… a flash fiction junkie!
She blogs at http://writer-in-transit.co.za/
Two pieces by Madeline Mora-Summonte
Coming Up Roses
Her grave, like the assault, is done in haste. She fights for life, shoving her fingers up through the dirt, seedlings desperate for the sun.
Lisa stares into the puddle. Her face is dirty and mean, just like Mama’s love. She stomps the water, sends teardrops of herself everywhere, nowhere.
Madeline Mora-Summonte reads, writes and breathes fiction in all its forms. She is the author of THE PEOPLE WE USED TO BE: A Flash Fiction Collection.
Burnt Orange by Luke Silver
Two pieces by Trudy Utterly
Congeniality is My Middle Name
Big grotesque faces. That’s what I see all day. They have spit on the corners of their mouths. “Keep the customer satisfied!” I tell myself.
Two pieces by Trudy Utterly
I Saw…U Saw…We Saw…Warsaw
There had to be over two hundred eyes in The Old Town Market Place that summer’s day. Yours were the only ones that were blue.
Trudy Utterly collects words, letters and punctuation marks by night, occasionally an umlaut or two, and by morning has stacked them into neat little stories in her head. Usually, by early evening, she sticks them to paper. When she is not checking her dots and tittles, she is performing in musicals in the kitchen, painting pictures on the bedroom ceiling or composing symphonies in the bathtub.