Flash Fiction

The Aesthete by Philip Berry

Soomaya drew a translucent finger across the micro-fine sheet of slate. The lines and figures on the page sprang up in rolling formation, magnified by her vitreous flesh. She absorbed the combination of artistry and structural calculus through nerves that recorded visual stimuli from every square inch of transparent skin. Passing over a particularly beautiful …

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Swings by Kate Jones

The little girl on the swing looks sad.  Her mother is speaking into a ‘phone, its blue glow lighting up her drawn-in eyebrows and cheap mascara.  She’s gesturing wildly with her hands, arguing, cursing. I’m embarrassed for her, for the little girl, who sits waiting for a push, dangling skinny legs from denim cut-offs and …

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