Brown is Better: Flash Fiction

We sat under the sunshine warm and toasty waiting for those rays of gold to do their work. We weren’t good enough as is, we needed to be brown. Brown was better.  People wanted brown. By afternoon we were ready.  Shirley picked us up one by one shining our smooth skin with the soft cloth of her flowing floral skirt, coins jiggling in her pocket. We could see Mrs. May coming, walking towards us, ready to scoop us up for the chocolate cake she’d have cooling on her windowsill by teatime. “Oh my aren’t they perfect!” She exclaimed. Good Eggs! … Continue reading Brown is Better: Flash Fiction

The Pianoman: Flash Fiction

The bell had rung.  The line had shut down.  The place was empty.  Artur did his rounds as he usually did.  Securing doors, turning on alarms, unplugging the toaster.  Then he’d sit and practice.  Two hours every night without fail.   He was going to be a famous pianist one day.  Go to school they said. “Vy you wanna verk een ah faktohree?” his mother would yell when he got home. They’ll see, he thought to himself as he strode over to the storage cages.  But his piano was locked up, and there were packages inside, with his name on … Continue reading The Pianoman: Flash Fiction

Poor Aunt Esther: Flash Fiction

Every Wednesday afternoon Ella Gitterman brought her Tupperware containers filled with delicious dinners and desserts for her aging aunt.  Poor Aunt Esther hadn’t left her house in 12 years. Disabled and penurious, Ella was her lifeline, dutifully bringing meals, helping with cleaning, shopping, and all the other things Ella knew how to do well.  Ella expected nothing in return. This Wednesday was different.  Ella washed the Tupperware still sitting in the freezer full of uneaten food and laid it on the table.  The doorbell rang.  The family lawyer was here.  She signed the papers. Ella was New York’s newest billionaire. … Continue reading Poor Aunt Esther: Flash Fiction

Shots Fired: Flash Fiction

She sat slumped, her hands face up, resting in her lap. Their weight like sandbags, barely holding the tissue that she would use to wipe the tears that fell onto her arms. It was just yesterday when he was still here. His blood spattered across the court. Today they washed the chalk lines and his blood. Erased. He was gone forever. Her child. Just playing. Caught in the crossfire. Promises of the future evaporating like the puddles on the court, slowly disappearing. Behind her she heard voices, footsteps running. A ball bounced across the court. One shot, with its echo. … Continue reading Shots Fired: Flash Fiction