My neighbor, Rooster, is sling-shotting baby doll heads into our backyard the morning my husband says, “we need to talk,” while hunched over the divorce papers scattered across the table. I didn’t bel...

My neighbor, Rooster, is sling-shotting baby doll heads into our backyard the morning my husband says, “we need to talk,” while hunched over the divorce papers scattered across the table. I didn’t bel...

ALT: Marcy Wu Can't Sleep

by Hannah Grieco...It isn’t normal, the way you smell. The way your body responds to fear...

He leaves the dorm, a beer in each hand, heads down the hill, and now his hands are empty. He’s in line at Moogie’s, a grungy bar where mostly college guys in frayed jeans, and untied shoes hang out. ...

this is her favorite; there’s something about the windsweptness of this coastline. Scruffy trees bent from wind the sharp smell of cold. On a cliff overlooking the ocean she has created a sort of nest...

When Sadie was sick, I used to do puzzles with her. Not with her, exactly. She was too tired to sit up or concentrate much, and the chemo gave her brain fog. But I’d do a puzzle on a card table beside...

Flash 405 is Exposition Review’s multi-genre flash competition, awarding prizes and online publication to the winners. To celebrate these award-winning works, we’ve collected them together in our Flas...

Key Party — Mario Aliberto III Okay lads, car keys go in the fishbowl, Theo says....

Two Stories — Kathy Fish A Good Soldier If you are sad or depressed, obey. A sulky...

A flash writer's attempt to outrun self-doubt with unhealthy amounts of enthusiasm and way too many projects

The village with all of the flash writers

Christopher Gonzalez is the author of the story collection I’m Not Hungry but I Could Eat (Santa Fe Writers Project, 2021). He is a 2021 NYSCA/NYFA Artist Fellow in Fiction and lives in Brooklyn. He c...

*THE BLUE FROG 3rd PLACE WINNER* If they ask me for a little brother or sister to play with, I’ll tell them all about the egg I’ve been incubating in the attic: the size of it, the slick red surfac…

What is lost in the river is all the things thrown or dropped or tossed: keys and beer bottles and a silver-plated bracelet with a clasp that came undone and someone’s bag they didn’t want, a plast…

Did you hear about the Black man? The Black woman? Black boy? The Black girl gone missing? Kidnapped. From thoughts and prayers. From the news. A child turned memory turned muted turned into a body, f...