A Hobart Symposium
Robert Shapard
Authors in Flash Fiction International
from the U.S., Mexico, Israel, New Zealand, India, Australia, and Brazil
respond to questions
Authors in Flash Fiction International
from the U.S., Mexico, Israel, New Zealand, India, Australia, and Brazil
respond to questions
Watching the blood drain was the moment she knew/ that she didn’t have it figured out."
Okay, now -- I'm going to tie this end to the box. Lydia, throw the other end over our tree. Gilly, stand guard over the box.
Nothing Works: 1
-New York City 2005
I should be through thinking about it. Ok, but I remember just going batshit, breaking up with Vanessa on the payphone. Hanging up, couple minutes,
Yesterday my mom called me up and asked me to buy her cigarettes. I told her no and hung up.
After the Bombing
Santa did not know how to react to the sight; he only stared. At the granite block, there were three rows filled with ten men, each of whom was Santa. The only thing that
I was afraid the security guards would stop us, but they just shrugged when I took the plane out and put it on the field. One of them even said something nice like, “Whoa, that is a cool.” I taxied it from the end zone; it took off and buzzed up into the sky.
You want to watch a movie?
Nah, I think I'm going to go write for a bit.
At my friend’s bonfire on a chilly Southwestern night, a blond woman in Birkenstocks approached me and said that her name was Singing Humyn.
Memories are like Asian pears. Store them cold and they will keep.
She climbed shivering out of the river. The Taigan smeared its nose on her shin. Soily fish. Down on the rug, massaging its
On the nights my father brings home a new howl my mother prepares a feast and adorns a whalebone corset like a rib carved from the moon. On these nights I love my family because we are together and in this way I have come to worship the wolf.
Untitled One
Motherhood slept astonished as astronomers wept so-so-ago with this sort of blow. This sort of ovary, yo, the story being if thrown into something sombrous, spokes-of-light, it
Someone is in trouble! Should I be running toward danger?
I realized that my son’s vocabulary, though impressive, would not help much with anything he was likely to encounter in everyday life, now or in the future.
Flying is dangerous, Lydia. I don't want to die today, do you?
I guess not.