by Surosree Chaudhuri | Sep 24, 2021 | 2021, Flash Fiction, September
Don’t tell Eli. But I keep one of her bottles in my backpack. One of these days, a big announcement is going to go out on the radio saying it’s all over and things can go back to how they used to be. We won’t have to walk every day and sleep in a tent, praying another...
by Junpei Tarashi | Aug 13, 2021 | 2021, August, Flash Fiction
Every autumn day, Rose passes by the hot air balloon field in Stillwater, wishing she had enough money in order to go up for just one ride. Last winter had not just taken a toll on Rose, it took nearly everything she had left. Now, she has a frostbitten toe and a...
by Junpei Tarashi | Jul 22, 2021 | 2021, Flash Fiction, July
There’s mold on Virgin Mary’s face. She’s supposed to be glowing, not gross green. It’s rained for days and the sanctuary roof leaks so saint tears erode her face like teenage acne. I try to scrub it, pray it away with mother of grace rosary rhymes. It...
by Surosree Chaudhuri | Jul 10, 2021 | 2021, Flash Fiction, July
The Pier by Sinéad Delaney https://www.agapanthuscollective.com.dream.website/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/The_Pier_by_Sinead_Delaney-1.mp3 He took me for a walk along the pier. The barriers I was leaning on were soaked at the bottom. I watched the water thrashing below...
by Junpei Tarashi | Jul 1, 2021 | 2021, Flash Fiction, July
Every girl in junior school knows that one must never, under any circumstances, touch the door handle to the girls’ toilets. It is common knowledge that long ago a girl rubbed her fanny on it. It will forever hold ‘the lurgy’, which will be transferred from...
by Junpei Tarashi | Jun 8, 2021 | 2021, Flash Fiction, June
Soft Shadows by Adam Chabot https://www.agapanthuscollective.com.dream.website/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/Soft-Shadows-Adam-Chabot.mp3 It’s late but Benny and I are sipping Dewar’s and celebrating Dad’s 65th birthday on the deck that overlooks the backyard....
