ISSUE 29: MARCH 2021

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By Michael Kozart

The day Darlene pulled up to Jack’s, she was facing a night in a shelter or the car. She had searched the county for an affordable room. Rents were soaring. This was the last resort.

It was a ranch home, with crumbling chimney and faded pink aluminum siding, out of place on a rural road with vineyards and mansions. Darlene knocked on the screen door. “Jack Elmer? We spoke on the phone.”

There was cursing and he appeared: sweat stains, stubbled jowls, a clump of masking-tape around the angle of his glasses. He looked her up and down.

“Is the room still open?” she asked.

Jack opened the door. Inside, there was the strong smell of cannabis and pork fat. Down a dim hall with dusky carpet, he gestured to a room. “Thousand, first of the month. Take or leave.” Continue reading “ISSUE 29: MARCH 2021”

GET READY TO WRITE!

Flash Fiction Workshop & Fundraiser

Learn how to write brilliant flash fiction, along with tips, tricks, and prompts to help you on your writing journey.

This one-hour virtual (Zoom) flash fiction workshop and fundraiser will take you from zero to finished flash fiction!

Date: Saturday, March 13, 2021

Time: Noon (Mountain Standard Time, USA)

Presented by: Cindy Skaggs

Continue reading “GET READY TO WRITE!”

ISSUE 28: JANUARY 2021

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By Ravibala Shenoy

When my baby sister was a few days old, my grandmother showed me the soft spot on her head, how we had to be careful not to hurt her there. She said, my mother was going to be busy with the baby, and I should not mind because I was four-and-a-half years old, the big sister.

My mother’s thirteen-year-old brother tormented me with stories of Ghooghooms who he said roamed my grandmother’s house and garden. When night came, he‘d put a flashlight in his mouth and cover himself with a bedsheet and he’d go thump, thump, through the house making sounds like an owl, and I’d run away shrieking. It was no use telling my mother because she lay limp in bed with the baby.

One day, when my sister was sleeping, I brought from the kitchen the brass pestle that my grandmother used to grind peppercorns. My sister lay in a winnowing basket swaddled in a blanket. Her chest rose and fell with her breath and her round face and shiny hair looked as peaceful as a lake. Just as I was about to hit with the pestle the soft spot my grandmother had told me about, she ran in breathless and grabbing the pestle from my hand, pushed me away. Continue reading “ISSUE 28: JANUARY 2021”

FLASH FICTION WORKSHOP

For a $100 donation, Brilliant Flash Fiction is offering a rare 5-session online flash fiction workshop with Assistant Editor Ed Higgins, limited to 20 students. Don’t miss this opportunity to improve your flash writing with a master teacher, open to international students at all levels.

When:  January 23, 2021; January 30; February 6; February 13; February 20 at noon Pacific Standard Time. Use this link to convert to your time zone: https://www.timeanddate.com/worldclock/converter.html?iso=20201220T130000&p1=202

Where: Zoom address will be sent to you

Continue reading “FLASH FICTION WORKSHOP”

KICKSTARTER SUCCESS

It’s done! We raised $1,575 to finance our 2021 print anthology, thanks to the 39 heroic backers of our month-long Kickstarter project. THANK YOU ALL. Watch this website for further anthology developments. (If you subscribe to Brilliant Flash Fiction, you will receive automatic email updates.)

Brilliant Flash Fiction will celebrate a happy Christmas this year, and we wish the same to our generous supporters.

On-the-Spot Writing Contest Winner

Thanks also go out to the brave participants of our virtual on-the-spot writing challenge. These writers were given one hour in which to write a story based on the prompt “Race,” created by First Reader Kari Redmond, who hosted a Zoom session attended by an international audience.

We received 30 entries at the end of an hour, and the winner is Hannah Whiteoak. Her story, After the Race, will appear in our January 31 issue and she will be paid the standard $20 fee for publication. Congratulations, Hannah!

Continue reading “KICKSTARTER SUCCESS”

ISSUE 27: SEPTEMBER 2020

1D978D0B-B853-46E3-86A3-3BEB2D4ADDCBIAN IN GLASGOW
By Madalyn Aslan

We’re all in the little guy’s car on Belswain’s Lane when Ian tells me his dad is in Broadmoor, prison for the criminally insane. I tell him I was born a bastard and we are poor. Ian counters, “But you’re rich in looks.” And I am like, man!

So we fall in love. He’s thirteen like me and looks like an angel and is going to be a playwright when he grows up. I love his hands. In the pub he talks about books with my mother. We discuss, seriously, names to give our future children. His mother Mae is a joyful drunk, fat and sexy in a tight flower dress, always coughing and laughing. She and my mother light up cigarettes with great animal sighs. My mother says she is from Scotland. So Ian is, too. After the little guy breaks it off with Mae, that’s where she and Ian disappear back to. Continue reading “ISSUE 27: SEPTEMBER 2020”

ISSUE 25: MARCH 2020

766EC72D-18EE-4A7D-9AC9-6236F2C13A0AMICHEL
By Cody Pease

Michel waters the plants in rotations. He starts with the tillandsias hanging in the copper-wire cages, then the oreganos and vanilla orchids near the south-facing window, then the begonia on the dining room table. The succulents need to be split, and the philodendrons need more sunlight. His hands are too weak to lift the watering pot; instead, he uses a wine glass like I showed him. It’s a small task to strengthen his muscles. “How are you doing?” His movements are slight and slow, but he smiles. “Well,” he says. I’m afraid to press him further. I leave him to water, then I peel the sweet potatoes for dinner. Continue reading “ISSUE 25: MARCH 2020”

ISSUE 24: JANUARY 2020

5972065B-DFD2-4915-805A-5A488BA375AFConfrontations
By David Galef

Maggie and I lived in a prim white house at the intersection of Maple Road and Main Street, and when she left to teach every morning, I’d stay home and stare out the front window because I lost my job at the bank. It’s a busy crossing, particularly when children are walking to and from Fielding Elementary School, where Maggie once taught fifth grade. The crosswalk is marked by a plastic stop sign in the middle of the road, with a capitalized warning for cars to stop for pedestrians. Yet drivers zoom by, narrowly missing people. I’d bang on the windowpane occasionally, to no effect. I don’t like that kind of response, as Maggie well knew. After enough mornings, I left the house and crossed the street, taking my time. I crossed back again. I waved my arms, getting in the motorists’ faces, forcing them to stop. Continue reading “ISSUE 24: JANUARY 2020”

BRILLIANT FLASH FICTION NOW PAYS FOR STORIES

fireworksHappy New Year!

Beginning January 1, 2020, Brilliant Flash Fiction (BFF) will pay 20 U.S. dollars for each story published in its quarterly online journal. Payment will be made upon publication, through PayPal only.

Authors submitting their work should first study the submission guidelines on our website: brilliantflashfiction.com.

For a $10 donation, you can order a print copy of the Hunger anthology featuring the editors’ “best of” choices from the BFF first five-year archives. Contact us at brilliantflashfiction@gmail.com to order your copy.

BFF is a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization. The online journal is entering its sixth year of publication and donations made on our website enable us to provide publication opportunities for writers without fees.

Thank you to everyone who donated in 2019. We are deeply grateful for your support.

ISSUE 23: SEPTEMBER 2019

5627196B-20E4-4A95-A8A4-22BCB0209CB4Register 8
By Charles Rafferty

There’s a funny smell around Register 8 and none of the cashiers want to use it, but it’s Saturday, a couple of weeks before Christmas, and Maggie is stuck there.

Maggie is the cutest girl in Marshalls, and she worries people will think that she is the source of the smell. This is preposterous. The sight of her in the break room makes me think, unaccountably, of vanilla extract, of cakes leavening behind the little window of my grandmother’s oven.

A men’s wear price check comes over the PA, and because I’m in the pants section, I’m able to make it to the register more quickly than Adam, who is over in the dress shirts, straightening the rows. Adam has been hitting on Maggie ever since he got hired for the Christmas rush. Maggie and I are year-rounders, and the first thing I check on the schedule each week is when our times will overlap. To take a belt or a fleece jacket from her hand means the possibility of contact, of rapture. Continue reading “ISSUE 23: SEPTEMBER 2019”