Adam wakes up completely underneath his heavy green quilt, shivering and drenched in sweat. Slivers of morning penetrate the lines of stitching in the fabric, unusually bright pinpricks of light illuminating Adam’s bare body beneath the covers. 413 more words
Tags » Flash Fiction
by Rebekah Postupak
It showed up on my porch at the most inopportune time, weeping and mewing pathetically.
My sister and I stood staring at it for a while, me, silently, and my sister with the perpetually distracting toothpick in her mouth, gnaw, gnaw, gnaw. 435 more words
The funny thing about Wells Street is that there aren’t any wells.
Maybe there were when it was named, when wells were at rather more of a premium than they are now. 305 more words