ISSN: 1946-1712

Flash 01/2010, #1: Tim Pratt


We hit the spikes on Interstate 40 East in Texas, soon after the second-largest freestanding cross in the Western hemisphere dropped over the horizon and disappeared from our rearview mirror, along with the giant thing crucified on it. (All the faded tourist-trap signs claim that cross is the largest, but I look into these things, and I know the cross in Effingham, Illinois actually has a wider armspan.) Read more: HTML 

In This Issue: Jake Freivald

Please Go Vote!

The Preditors & Editors Poll runs through January 14. We’d love your vote in any category!

As for stories, there’s a little for everyone: fantasy, literary fiction, surrealism, a fairy tale, or a Bitter Bierce classic. If you’re a writer, read Bruce’s column on what to leave out.

Thanks to the staff for making it through another year, and to donors for their help in keeping the zine moving. Our next issue goes live on February 2. Meanwhile, please comment on stories, subscribe, and tip your favorite authors. Thanks! Read more: HTML 

Flash 1/2010, #2: Tree Riesener


Quiet. You sit quiet as a mouse in the corner. Push a little doll around and hum la-la-la so they forget you’re there while they have the cocktail hour.

That’s how you find out they’re killing Grandma.

Not a single bite to eat or a swallow of water. Your mother is killing her mother.

That’s their favorite punishment for you, too. Read more: HTML 

Short-Short Sighted #18: Bruce Holland Rogers

Ellipsis: What To Leave Out

The title says it all. Read more: HTML 

Flash 1/2010, #4: Bruce Holland Rogers

Okra, Sorghum, Yam

An exemplar for Short-short Sighted #18.

So the following summer when the second princess came to Old Kwaku’s hut, he said, “What do you want?”

“My father said that I must learn wisdom from you.” Read more: HTML 

Flash 1/2010, #3: Ken Pisani

Last Bites

The wake held for Sven Müeller at Karloff’s Funeral Home in Queens, New York, was completely unremarkable until a tiny nephew of Sven’s was lifted to kiss his uncle good-bye, but instead bit off the dead man’s nose. Women shrieked and strong men fainted and, when the toddler continued to chew and swallow the nose, his mother dropped him and vomited.

But the boy just grinned and said, “Chocolate.” Read more: HTML 

Classic Flash #26: Ambrose Bierce

The Failure of Hope & Wandel

From Mr. Jabez Hope, in Chicago, to Mr. Pike Wandel, of New Orleans, December 2, 1877.

I will not bore you, my dear fellow, with a narrative of my journey from New Orleans to this polar region. It is cold in Chicago, believe me, and the Southron who comes here, as I did, without a relay of noses and ears will have reason to regret his mistaken economy in arranging his outfit. Read more: HTML 

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