by Surosree Chaudhuri | May 13, 2023 | 2023 March, Flash Fiction
Gerry from over the road has married his car. ‘It’s a beautiful colour,’ Julia tells him at the coronation party. ‘I hope you make each other very happy.’ ‘Thank you,’ says Gerry. ‘It’s a burnt orange, the colour.’ Then a little smile. ‘It’s what I named her after,...
by Junpei Tarashi | Sep 7, 2022 | 2022 September, Flash Fiction
To become an altar boy he had to satisfy a list of tasks and conditions; it was like earning a merit badge. Gary wished it was more like Boy Scouts, with ranks laid out within the altar boy organization that he could steadily ascend until he reached the summit and...
by Junpei Tarashi | Sep 7, 2022 | 2022 August, Flash Fiction
The day Phillip had been nominated for the most promising new lecturer in Economics, Marketing or Related Disciplines, Carol had not come to his door. The day he’d learned about the distinction for his MA, Carol had not come to his door. And the day he got the, in her...
by Surosree Chaudhuri | Sep 7, 2022 | 2022 July, Flash Fiction
“The water” crawls down the length of your arm, and as always, you reach to sweep it off, only to see nothing. “But it feels wet and cold running down my skin,” so you tell Iorfa, your great grandson, “only I cannot stop it.” Iorfa...
by Junpei Tarashi | May 28, 2022 | 2022 May, Flash Fiction
After she’d blown out the last candle, she informed me that she hadn’t made a wish. This was notspoken in a whisper, as if sharing a secret that the universe shouldn’t overhear, but in her usual tone ofvoice—lilting, almost like a canary singing—because she...
by Surosree Chaudhuri | May 19, 2022 | 2022 May, Flash Fiction
The owl prince was dead. Long live the prince. God save his princess. As was customary for such funerals, Aida invited her wicked drunk foster mother and no one else because everybody was tired of attending the funerals of her poor “pets”. But...
