The Girlfriend Game, stories by Nick Antosca

Word Riot Inc.: Kicking Small Press Into High Gear
Flash Fiction

Moira by Gary Moshimer

Our hotel in Italy hung on a cliff. There were steep steps to the beach, the stone worn by generations. It made me shiver. We were there for a month; our father had a windfall. I was eleven, and my sister Ivy was thirteen.

The sky was deep blue and the water green and the tide pool clear but alive with all kinds of life in every color. The local boys and girls were brown with dark hair streaked with gold. Their skin seemed to sparkle, as if forever engrained with sand, and all of them were beautiful.

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Flash Fiction

Heads of the Line by Lori Schafer


Lori Schafer’s flash fiction, short stories, and essays have appeared in numerous print and online publications, and she is currently at work on her third novel. Her memoir, On Hearing of My Mother’s Death Six Years After It Happened: A Daughter’s Memoir of Mental Illness, is being released in October 2014. You can find out more about Lori and her forthcoming projects by visiting her website at

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Flash Fiction

Interior Design by Alaina Symanovich

We decide to name our daughters Lana and Kimiko. Lana will dance like you did, and Kimiko will run Cross Country like me. They both will write: Lana poetry, Kimiko fiction. We raise our eyebrows imagining what a handful Lana will be—poets, we tsk—and browse Lowes’ burnished nickel faucets, picturing them aflame with sunset instead of the whining fluorescents overhead. Through the window above the sample sink, I watch Lana pluck fireflies out of the sky, harvesting their light in apple-white palms. Kimiko dribbles a soccer ball barefoot, hair long and loose down her back. I joke that the kitchen

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Flash Fiction

No Whiskey at Your Republic by Hansang Lee


Hansang Lee is a native of Seoul, Korea, and is a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. He thinks he is working on a collection of short stories, or something of that sort.

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Flash Fiction

Haymaker by Brendan Steffen


Brendan Steffen lives in Oxford, MS where is a fiction candidate at the University of Mississippi MFA program. He is co-editor of the Yalobusha Review.

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Flash Fiction

SCHOOL by Melissa Goodrich

Listen to a reading of “SCHOOL by Melissa Goodrich.

All of the boys in school are breaking their hands. They come in with casts with two fingers and a thumb sticking out. It hurts to grip the computer mouse. It doesn’t hurt to fall asleep on the keyboard. All of the boys are right-handed. All of the boys have pierced mouths. On the break-room door I find the note: “I am taking today off because the air smells like perfume.” And below, in smaller print: “I am taking today off because suddenly I am aware of every nerve in my

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Flash Fiction

Motor Magic by Steven Murray

S.Murray at Mic

Listen to a reading of “Motor Magic” by Steven Murray.

Because I wanted to believe that a man’s grasp of the deep mysteries of the internal combustion engine certified his command of the mysteries of maleness itself, I play-acted the role of the creator of those wheels, the individual who had somehow conjured it from a mass of metal on a garage floor in Elizabeth City, North Carolina. The machine was a mask, a charmed exoskeleton that protected me from thoughts about my inadequacies; my voice an extension of its glass packs’ throaty roar. I never felt the equal of

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Flash Fiction

Compassion by Amit Majmudar

Majmudar 2014 Author Photograph

When you arrive at the cell in the prison basement, the fat man is chained to the ceiling by his wrists and ankles, and the skinny man is on all fours below him, supporting the fat man’s weight. To your surprise, it is the skinny man who is screaming, the skinny man whom you have been called in to diagnose and treat. The fat man appears asleep.      You announce yourself as a doctor and assure the skinny man that you are here to help him. He is very grateful and crawls out from under the fat man, who begins

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Flash Fiction

Encountering by Dan Corfield


I ran into my ex-girlfriend at Starbucks three days ago. I wasn’t looking where I was going.      “Hey,” I said.      We had been engaged for seventy-two hours once, but then we broke up, got back together again, and then we broke up for good.      She said, “Oh, you.”      I said, “Who else?”      “I get it,” she said.      I didn’t know what she was getting, but I wasn’t about to lose my place in line for her. Not for anyone.      “I’m not mad anymore,” She said.      I had heard that one before. I

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Flash Fiction

You by Lucy McKee


I flunked out of nursing school and you met a guy, moved into his condo and got pregnant; in that order. I hustled tables at the Varsity while you bought baby clothes and ignored my calls.

When you lost the baby and my phone finally rang.

Up to the third floor of the hospital where you were alone, smelling of blood and sweat. Shaking, crying; inconsolable.

My hands awkward on your body, your damp hair. Your face pressed into my palm.

She’s gone, you said. My baby’s gone. Your chest rising and falling, your breath hot on my hand.

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