What if I was the reasonable one and you the overthinker?

I want to live inside it though: pale birds and fragile light and a novel kind of solitude.

All these familiar but strange things that make up his wife.

I bring the child closer to me and inhale, prepared for the musty smell of old men. It never comes.

The witch listened to nothing but her water heart.

The dead decided to live upon us, demanding a second chance.

There are ghosts who haunt and ghosts who kill.

There were no windows opened. There were dimmed lights. There were crumbs beneath the table.

That’s one thing I’ll say about the aliens: they really appreciate a good bowl of ramen.

I imagined we might pitch over the edge of the mountain.

They have many lives, as all apparitions do, and don’t mind sparing a few

When I left, I stretched far enough away that any tethers I had severed. Now a place exists without me.

I don’t remember the trees, though. My sister doesn’t either.

I killed my old self to see if I would finally return home to myself.

All the koi fish in our pond died, except one.

She had a dream the night before about catching a pig, which her father used to tell her was a prelude for great fortune.

I feel him taking my hands in his and kissing them every time he saw me.

Fourteen flash fiction stories on the places and people that stay with us

They say most of her followers are moms.

I felt no joy out there, not close to the joy I felt in Daiso.