A poem: Blank Is

Blank Is Blankness. What is blank behind you? Stillness, rage, blank. On and on. Blank fear. Lid on, eyes open blind, blank. Bars rattling, chains breaking blank apart. Sign torn, smeared blank. Long ago. A boot on the neck, blank. On the stomach, on the head. Blank....

At least

At Least By Laura McHale Holland I never meant to leave him like that. I was driving to the mall to exchange some shoes that were too tight, and I just forgot he was there. Then I got sidetracked by all those end-of-summer sales. And then I saw my friend Rosie in the...

A dime a dozen

Another episode in my series of connected flash fiction. A Dime a Dozen By Laura McHale Holland Two uniformed officers break down the front door of a ramshackle home in an otherwise nondescript middle class neighborhood. The suspect, a spindly, gap-toothed man in...

Right through the heart

Right Through the Heart By Laura McHale Holland He had nothing against the man and woman rushing to the Mercedes, nor the paparazzi in pursuit, nor the throng of people flanking the spectacle at 3 p.m.—except that they were all in his way. He was angry, sure. Why...

Back pocket wishes

I edited this story a bit a few weeks after I posted it, so some of the comments people made in response to the earlier version might not make sense to someone reading the story and comments for the first time. Back Pocket Wishes By Laura McHale Holland Sparks fly...

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