She grips a cup so hard it breaks and the heads  / rise all at once, “She’s here!”

By Soeun Seo
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Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

The witch listened to nothing but her water heart.

Fiction

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

Fiction

There are ghosts who haunt and ghosts who kill.

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

They say most of her followers are moms.

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

The witch listened to nothing but her water heart.

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

There are ghosts who haunt and ghosts who kill.

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

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

Fiction

They say most of her followers are moms.

Fiction

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

Fiction

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