Stefanie Freele | Word Riot

Notes From Elsewhere: A Word Riot Roundup

Notes From Elsewhere is a roundup of various literary things compiled by Sara Habein, along with news from past Word Riot authors. She makes no claims at being terribly current or the first to know anything, but hopefully you will find something interesting here.)

A little internal WR news first: Wigleaf recently released their Top 50 (Very) Short Fictions list, and three stories from here have made the cut:

“The Way You Move Twelve Minutes From Home” by Stefanie Freele “Ironing” by Peter Grandbois “More Work” by Gregory Sherl

Also, WR‘s Poetry Editor, Nicolle Elizabeth, has a story on the list with

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Notes From Elsewhere: A Word Riot Roundup

(Notes From Elsewhere is a roundup of various literary things compiled by Sara Habein, along with news from past Word Riot authors. She make no claims at being terribly current or the first to know anything, but hopefully you will find something interesting here.)

Leesa Cross-Smith, whose “Russian Women Stuff” appeared here this past January, has two new pieces of flash fiction published: “Three Ways to Say No” over at DOGZPLOT and “A Modest Guide to Truculence/Survival: Girls” at Treehouse.

Stefanie Freele, whose flash fiction appeared twice here, has a collection of stories out now: Surrounded by Water is available from

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Flash Fiction

The Way You Move Twelve Minutes From Home by Stefanie Freele

Be manic. Work through the holidays. Don’t give a fuck about the turkey soup and any other leftover. Scoff at the idea of Christmas lights. Say things like now we’ll finally get ahead with all that money I’m bringing in. Take medicine on an empty stomach; refuse ice, food, rest, and prayer. Minimize seven months of sobriety down to an easy feat to snatch again. While sober, make a choice at the liquor store. Stay up until four a.m. – with that choice – listening to Art Bell. Become convinced the government is behind it all. Realize aliens are

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Flash Fiction

Where the Pain Ends Stefanie Freele

Something has triggered our migraine again and he needs to hide in the gloom. A cloth over fragile eyes.

I am not resting in the shadows because our two-year-old refuses to nap. He is wee, exempt from causing anything beyond a mere tumble of blocks.

A weak plea from the bedroom – “The blocks, shush.” “Sweet Montana Sky,” I mutter, “we can’t even play quietly in our own house?”

The migraine enters the living room. It hovers darkly without its host, black.

Our son hides behind his easel.

“Where is my husband?” I demand.

With stilettos I step

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Notes From Elsewhere: A Word Riot Roundup

Notes From Elsewhere: A Word Riot Roundup

The Way You Move Twelve Minutes From Home by Stefanie Freele

Where the Pain Ends Stefanie Freele