FLASH FICTION—a complete short story telegraphed in a very few words—doesn’t pussyfoot around. It throws just one punch. Then it gets the hell out of there. It’s edgy. It’s trendy. And it’s fun to write. So this fall, in a daring break from our traditional themed essay contests, we invited local writers to submit flash fiction pieces of no more than 500 words, with the caveat that each story include the word “crow,” “elbow,” or “silver.” Following, the delightfully minimalist cream of an (ironically) abundant crop.
Halfway There | By Susan Lyn McCombs
Bloom | By Robert Menzimer
Tati’s Necklace | By Alisa Golden
Hardy’s Mother | By Toni Martin
Departures | By Stacy Appel
The Silver Age | By Richard Schwarzenberger
In the Mountains | By Deborah Steinberg
Cousins | By Flossie Lewis
Nightclub | By Melinda Clemmons
