The little people were not welcome. But they came. They sat in the rocks of the Arnie’s wall, trilling and ducking into the gaps between the rocks whenever Arnie opened the door or came around the corner of his house. They had turned the gaps in the rocks into doorways to their homes. They ate … Continue reading Arnie’s Wall
Category: flash fiction
Maria Joseph and the Hills Like. . . .
Del Darlson leaned on his shovel and watched the muddied water burble across the dry alfalfa field. What it murmured he could not say, but he heard the unmistakable laughter of a certain young woman. Above him the clouds unraveled and reraveled the shape of her face, her long slender arms, an angle of her … Continue reading Maria Joseph and the Hills Like. . . .
How Loud Does a Thirty-Two Finned Fish Whistle Blow?
How and why and when Jonas Ammitian caught the biggest rainbow trout in the world is in part because of the man he met in a bar in West Bench, Montana, but mostly because of the kerfuffle being made of his life at the time. Jonas was not even a fisherman. He was a plain, salt … Continue reading How Loud Does a Thirty-Two Finned Fish Whistle Blow?
After Forty-Five Groovin’ Years Ferni Diswalter Heads for San Francisco
The song of Ferni Diswalter’s life was like a vinyl 78 rpm record with a scratch across it. It went round and round on the turntable and kept playing the same small snatch of song over and over again. As you might expect, the snatch of lyric for Ferni’s life was from the hippie song … Continue reading After Forty-Five Groovin’ Years Ferni Diswalter Heads for San Francisco
A Man is a Measly Thing
Breed came into the country with nothing. The horse he rode in on he possessed but did not own. It was said that the shirt he wore he got off a dead man after a fight in Denver or St. Louis or California. There were many men who knew of the fight, knew witnesses or … Continue reading A Man is a Measly Thing
“That’s North, That’s Montana,” She Said.
In the early afternoon on Monday of the third week, Jordan Wilmerton rode up beside the wagon and said, “Well, Amanda, you are headed back to the States now.” “The States are East, Mr. Wilmerton,” she grinned at him. “That’s North. That’s Montana.” Montana had been a destination now for nearly a month. Montana, and … Continue reading “That’s North, That’s Montana,” She Said.
Cora Doesn’t Find What She was Looking For
When Cora Greenfline turned away under that heavy sun, she turned away forever. What she turned away from was what she had not found, and what it told her of what she thought she was looking for. As it turned out all there had been were two gaudily painted toy-like engines facing each other, as … Continue reading Cora Doesn’t Find What She was Looking For
Payday for a Bum
Grechen counted four fifties, four twenties, and ten ones out of her till, then counted them again, snapping them, quick fast, on the counter. She picked up the bundle, snapped it edge down on the counter to even the edges and put into an envelope and handed the envelope to me. “Five hundred dollars,” she … Continue reading Payday for a Bum
When Daddy Drinks the Laundry
Mother Mary sat quietly in the sunshine across the street from Olivia’s. It did me good to see her in the spring sun. A lot of people were walking past, and Mother sat quietly in the spring sun, her faded blue denim shirt open for the sun on her throat, and her orange and blue … Continue reading When Daddy Drinks the Laundry
In the Morning We Did Not Take It.
“We’ll take it in the morning,” the Colonel said. He stood in the trench and periscoped over the rampart. Shells exploded out on the wasteland between his revetments and the bastion city. There were prone figures out there, some moving a bit. Some not, some in bloody pools. In the morning we did not take … Continue reading In the Morning We Did Not Take It.
Home of Have, Poems by Lee Robison 