“Mason, what do you think?” Aunt Peggy asks, beaming.
It’s terrible.
Of course, I don’t say that out loud. Aunt Peggy would be inconsolable if I do. So I swallow and hope my face doesn’t express my shock. “Aunt, you shouldn’t have.”
She giggles
A deposit of azure Caerulum glimmers deep within the inky cold strata. The miners’ pickaxes splinter the stone in rhythm to their anthem. Drills thrum, gears grind, grunts echo, and oil drips—the never-ending song of the crystal mines.
But I don’t
Dan McKnight knew what his next customer wanted: strawberries, her favorite fruit. The familiar woman stood before him, wrapped in a scarlet cloak as though she’d stepped out of a pre-Raphaelite painting.
“Hi, Cathy. I’ve picked a punnet just for you.” He lifted
Heart thrilling with discovery, Sweetsage bounded through the vibrant forest. She crashed through a hovering coterie of fairies, scattering them. As she dashed through the meadow, rabbits jumped and darted. Behind the cottage, she found Papa chopping kindling.
“I found a dragon egg!”
My brother and I have labored since dawn under the Colorado sky, hacking away at a rock face in a luckless search for silver. Growing numbers of werewolves back East have made that metal more precious than gold. Frustrated, we eat a meager
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“A pinch of mint, a sprinkle of red clover. Three drops of deep golden honey, and the sun-kissed petals of a yellow daisy. The peel of an orange, an azure feather of a bluebird, and…” I gave the cauldron contents a slow stir.
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We plodded through the streets, human water droplets forming tributaries that flowed toward the Auditorium. Talking was forbidden now that Corporations owned words. It was too late to mourn the legal battles over copyrights won by slick lawyers. The world order had changed, and there was
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The three suspects fidgeted in their line while Crowe wrote in his notepad. He knew that writing usually made his suspects nervous, and while Crowe didn’t like that fact exactly, it couldn’t be helped. And sometimes he did get a bit of pleasure from
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Announcing the winners of the “Encore: Sensational” April 2026 flash fiction contest!
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The crone’s home lies deep within the forest, so covered in moss and vines that I almost miss it. The old woman sits on a stool by her front door, hunched over a massive tome, running her fingers across lines of text.
I adjust
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“How do we shut it off?” I shout over the dissonant symphony created by Dr. Prismatic’s haywire machine. Thankfully, at the entrance of the hastily abandoned carnival, we’re just beyond the whirlwind’s reach.
“It was only supposed to affect the carnival—I never
When Becky falls off the tightrope after her daily dose of Balancing Brew, I know something’s wrong with my elixirs.
Fortunately, it’s just practice, and Becky lands safely in the net. But if that had been the actual show? I shudder.
“Charlotte!” Val, the
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