A gathering of recent speculative flash & micro fiction, each presenting a tiny-yet-powerful universe. How tiny? About one-thousand words for flash; four-hundred words for micro. The word count isn’t as important as the emotion, the adventure, the sense of wonder. Including science fiction, fantasy, horror, and the spaces in between.
The stories I’m highlighting this month all have spectacular endings. Of course, each story is solid from start to finish, but the final paragraph, the final line is what makes these stories stand out. Each one lingered in my mind for days. As you read these pieces, pay attention to the way they end. See how the final lines open the pieces for further thought? How they invite you to climb in and engage with the story? For me, that’s the allure of the flash form.
I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!
By Tara Isabel Zambrano in Tahoma Literary Review * 978 Words
After Baba lost his land to pay off Grandpa’s debt, the village witch gave him a bag of mulberry leaves and silkworms in exchange for Ma’s gold bangles. Thrice a day, the label read. Steeped with caterpillars and mulberry leaves, Ma gave the soup to my sister, Sana, and me for weeks until our earlobes curled, our chests swelled like cocoons, and our pores released resham.
I was immediately drawn into this story. The images are striking and unexpected, built in a world of magic where girl-children are exploited by their parents with the help of an unkind witch. Running parallel to our real-world treatment of women and girls, this body horror flash packs a punch.
Open Them If You Don’t Believe Me
By K.C. Mead-Brewer in Matchbook * ~1000 Words
The black trees slashed through the sunlight, more bared fangs than a forest, and just deep enough within them to be lost: a charming cottage where lived a young woman and her parents, until the day (how sad) her parents both died.
This language is lush and gorgeous, which makes the creepy elements all the more disturbing. Each piece of the story ties to the next, building layers of tension and anticipation. This will make you squirm, though the dark humor might leave you with a shameful smile. Don’t skip the author’s note at the end.
By Jennifer Skogen in Factor Four * 735 Words
We inhale salt-mist and mineral-dark air as we approach the water and exhale coffee or mint. Oregano from pizza, or siracha from takeout pad thai. Our sisters’ breath will smell like squid ink and fish bone. Like shark tail and anemone.
Sisters take gifts to the beach, hoping to entice mermaid siblings to rejoin them on land, at least for a short time. The allure of leaving everything behind is skillfully woven through each phrase in the piece. A beautifully lyrical tale of loss and longing.
By Bob McHugh in Nature Futures * 864 Words
Remember this pic from five years ago? You’re wearing matching chef shirts. You can’t tell in this frame of the photo, but Regina’s onesie reads Sous Chef. By my records, this is the last time either of you wore matching shirts.
This story is deceptively complex. McHugh brings an earnest algorithm to life in a most thoughtful way. This bittersweet tale left me feeling both sad and hopeful. Be sure to read the author’s note at the end.
By Kit Gadgitar in 100-Foot Crow * 100 Words
Screwed up that date with the love of your life and will never find happiness unless you can try again with fresher tacos and more deodorant?
Clever humor and a fresh take on time travel. I love drabbles that tell a full story and leave me satisfied. This is a fun piece!
By André Geleynse in Small Wonders * 922 Words
You’ve gathered all the items. His bed, in his favorite spot on your desk behind your computer screen, where he used to sleep while you were working. His toys, his food, and a small trail of catnip leading from his grave site in the backyard, in case he goes there first and needs directions.
I was drawn to the protagonist’s single-minded focus on resurrecting a kitten. Who hasn’t wished to keep a beloved pet by their side? The author shows fascinating detail in the procedure. I think the thing that elevates this bit of necromancy above so many other such stories is the thread of respect for the cat’s wishes. The author ends the piece on equal notes of tension and hope.
Bonus spec horror poem!
By Chris Panatier in The Deadlands * 425 words/64 lines
They pour to the floor. Meatballs with teeth
Swarm up his limbs on eyelash feet.
The creep factor blows me away in this clever poem. I love it when authors use creativity & gut-punch story telling to address the real horrors of our modern lives. Points to Panatier for so effectively skewering an industry that is possible only through cruelty.
Friends, I have only two human eyes and a single timeline to master, so I’ve undoubtedly missed a lot of fantastic stories. Please share your own favorites on Twitter or Bluesky or wherever you exist!
Myna Chang 