Thursday Was the Sharpest Day by Brent Waggoner
Monday is for vacuum cleaners, tubes clogged with hair and paperclips. Tuesdays (two-days) people remember that they only had one copy of the will.
Monday is for vacuum cleaners, tubes clogged with hair and paperclips. Tuesdays (two-days) people remember that they only had one copy of the will.
When Alfie asked where I wanted to go on honeymoon I told him Winnipeg, said I wanted to French kiss in front of Manitoba Museum’s plesiosaur fossil. I lied.
Featuring new flash fiction from Karen Arnold, Guy Biederman, Chris Cottom, A.J. O’Toole, Ian Walker-Sperber, and Abigail Williams.
Issue 41 contributors Karen Arnold, Guy Biederman, Chris Cottom, A.J. O’Toole, Ian Walker-Sperber, and Abigail Williams discuss summer reading tips and notes on process.
We lay the table under the apple tree, whoop as Mum glides towards us like a bride. We lift her veil, kiss away her tears, insist she’s a gazillion times more gorgeous.