pages Micro-Fiction Archives

The Good Night

Issue No. 168 ~ May, 2011

I heard him walking into things. I heard something drop and shatter, I heard running water, and cupboards. I heard him open the door to the bathroom and I heard the hinges of my mom's door, then something soft but heavy hit the floor.

Answers for Are Muffin Tops Collapsible?

Issue No. 168 ~ May, 2011

If you fall in love you’d have a relationship like Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. Arguing at first, then he would gradually become gentle and kiss you just like he were eating sugar cream pie.

Hands

Issue No. 167 ~ April, 2011

The bones in her hands healed. We went to the hospital and the doctor removed the splints. He examined her hands and did tests, took x-rays. It was miraculous, he said. Her hands were in perfect shape.

Breaststroke

Issue No. 167 ~ April, 2011

I spend my time imagining my husband's breathing: the symphony of energy expended by his body and bones and the universal sound of the heart pumping blood, the heart doing what the heart actually does.

Sleep of Reason

Issue No. 166 ~ March, 2011

Dad’s home! one of them would shout, and the others would squeal in nervous panic. Plucked from their fantasies, the three of them melded into one entity: the kids.

Rabies

Issue No. 166 ~ March, 2011

They reassured you, told you that you were overreacting. You laughed a normal laugh and agreed, but later, after your boyfriend had gone to bed, the laugh froze in your throat, choking you.

Braking

Issue No. 166 ~ March, 2011

She has time to think all of this just after the moment she notes the first red tipped leaves and just before she realizes that her brakes are just not catching, catching, catching.

Boys in the Bank

Issue No. 165 ~ February, 2011

On the weekend we’re at a family barbeque at the local park—I’m surrounded by at least thirty family members. And motor Mama reminds me, as she serves me one of her giant barbeque

Chosen

Issue No. 165 ~ February, 2011

By noon we are wasted and the music thumps and Maureen's cake is gutted in the center of my dining room table. I am tempted to tell my neighbors to go home

Good Fences

Issue No. 164 ~ January, 2011

He handed her the medicine and they sat down. After she lit one she handed it to him. She only ever let him take a couple puffs because she was afraid his mother would stop bringing