flash fiction - Alex Wright

flash fiction

A collection of 11 posts

First-Timer

She and her husband were going to eat the man in the chair [...]

Peacock

“Man dies constantly until the moment of his demise.” —Heidegger, Being and Time The peacock’s feathers flashed, all at once, a royalty of white. There were no gaudy blues or greens. This was an albino peacock. Not all at once. Slow down. This is what it seemed but not

Welcome to Hell.

Welcome to Hell.

Nobody says anything on the ride in, even though the wind bucks the chopper, even though the clouds are massing redly, even though the fucking building is on fire.

Dreams of Cigar Unicorns

Dreams of Cigar Unicorns

And he saw the house with smoke guttering from every window, the sky balmed red, the creak and crackle.

Skin

Before I go to sleep, I write your name on my skin. I write it over and over again.

Sun-painting

Big brother where are you going I say because I can see him going and becoming small very small but not small like me and he shouts back I’m going to the sea.

Such skirts

The skirt, caught by the wind, took over her whole life in that moment.

All The Lives, Always

flash fiction Featured

All The Lives, Always

If they hadn’t met, she said, and got together so young, they wouldn’t be in this situation. Coffee shop, clanking of crockery, rippling voices. Saturday morning. And she was saying that it wasn’t that she didn’t love him, but that she wished she could go back and live those years.

flash fiction Featured

Snip.

Time has almost stopped anyway. It’s not like anyone will notice. He takes the silver scissors out of his pocket.

Four Seasons and a Time Accident

Four Seasons and a Time Accident

> You know I dreamed about you / For 29 years / Before I saw you > — ‘Slow Show’ — The National Summer This would be a love story, written in four acts, each tied to a season, but you aren’t here yet. I wish you were. It’s no good for my theme.

Murder on the Train

Murder on the Train

Early hours, and the train rattles through the dark. Few of us in here: me, but I'm not important, old man few seats up, either sleeping or almost there. Three women with shopping bags at their feet, chatting, all hands and teeth.