Flash Fiction: August 19, 2016

I’m not a shopaholic. Not even close. Like a puerile moron, I’d used every penny I’d made since Christmas on beautification and a plane ticket to Rio. I essentially made myself homeless and lived on nothing but a burrito and an endless supply of mushy pineapple for months. I just wanted to get a glimpse …

Flash Fiction: July 21, 2016

Pursuing the shelves of a scant bookstore for a light read to take on vacation, I heard my name. “I think Laura Emery has gone wayward with her writing lately.” Some ignoble Megalodon-looking woman was holding my periwinkle colored book, “What Remains of the Fair Simonetta.”

Flash Fiction: July 15, 2016

Donna Owens caused pure pandemonium when she stormed through the eclectic Christmas potluck searching for Pokemon.  Her once relaxed coworkers, now gaped with disbelief as she knocked over the roses and veronique, splashing water onto the oblong tray of vegan pumpernickel puddlewaddles, and goat cheese beignets.

Flash Fiction: June 24, 2016

“Donatella! I saw a tremendous sweaty, hairy Gigantopithecus hominid!” Bubba enthused in his flibbertigibbet way, his shavocado exposed. Donatella sat up from the bed and removed her headgear. “Is that a sesquipedalian way of saying you saw a sasquatch?”