IFP 2024 Flash Fiction Series
Guest Edited by Annika Barranti Klein
In 2024, we are publishing one flash fiction story a month in celebration of the short-short form. Here are the stories:
In 2024, we are publishing one flash fiction story a month in celebration of the short-short form. Here are the stories:
Honey In Her Hands
by Devan Barlow It had been years since Margot could read a book without it turning to honey in her hands. Like she was some sort of incorrectly shaped bee. She could at least still read books, though she had to be fast, and there was no turning back the pages to reread. No savoring the words for her. Despite reading widely, trying every genre she could find, honey always seeped up from the words, and the margins collapsed beneath the weight of sweetness... Read an interview with the author |
Wolves
by Lisa Short There’s more than one kind of wolf out on the prairie. Everybody knows about the first kind — twice as big as any dog, usually gray but sometimes black or even white, melting in and out of the tall, thick grass like ghosts, if ghosts had fangs and claws. A pack can kill even a full-grown bull — I saw the remains once, back when Da used to take Mama and me into town... Read an interview with the author |
Lilt and Luster Spring Newsletter
by Susan Taitel Welcome back, Glitterbugs! I’m thrilled to announce that Lilt and Luster will soon be reopening for in-person shopping. What a few years it has been, huh? Between the Goblin strike shutting down our supply line and the Wyvern-pox outbreak forcing us to close the storefront indefinitely, we were beginning to doubt this moment would ever come. If I hadn’t personally overseen the warding, I would have sworn our humble little jewelry store was cursed... Read an interview with the author |
You Can Leave Your Helmet On
by Tehnuka I heave my basket onto the checkout counter and try to scratch an itch on my scalp with a sweaty finger before I remember that I can’t. It’s way too hot for this. “Half price if you remove that helmet,” says the cashier wearing Luke’s nametag, and the rest of his body. Luke ditched his protective gear last month. He said he was sick of helmet hair... Read an interview with the author |
To Kiss the Chrysanthemum Moon
by Wen Wen Yang In the capital, there is a bronze statue of a warrior with her bow drawn, arrow aflame to commemorate the soldier who stopped the Jiāng Shī invasion. New recruits touch her arrowhead for luck. Years ago, during the height of the Jiāng Shī invasion, people whispered of the necromancer’s threat. “Only the dead answer his call. No man can stop his magic.” The dead outnumbered the living, ten to one. Every family gave up their father or son to the army... Read an interview with the author |
I Am Fire
by Y.M. Resnik I first breathed fire at a Pride March. The event flier displayed participants performing in positions of strength. People with their shit all figured out. Their confidence poked at a ball of questions that had been snowballing in my head ever since my Netflix preferences began featuring “LGBTQ+” hits. If I marched, maybe I could figure out my shit, too... Read an interview with the author |
Chief Scavenger’s Log in the Climate Apocalypse
by P.A. Cornell Surfaced for first time in ten years. With Karl gone, it’s up to me to find enough supplies to get us through winter. Karl used to say the temperature this time of year was pleasant. Still a lot colder than I remember summers from when I was a kid, but at twenty-one, I’m a man now. Gotta be strong for the kids, like Karl was for me. Anyway, got lucky and found some stuff, but as I was heading back, I spotted a girl. A woman. We just stared at each other for a while before she ran. The whole walk back I kept checking behind me — a little healthy paranoia’s a good thing these days. She had blue hair, to match her eyes... Read an interview with the author |
Sorry Not Sorry
by Vivian Chou Myeyeball whirs in its half-metal socket, glimpsing shreds of mayoral candidate signs and uprooted oak trees. Only the brick foundation remains of our local polling station. Nearby, a blood-stained flyer reads: Our kids’ future depends on YOU — Vote YES for the 2032 School Referendum! “Guys,” the radio comm says. “What’s the damage?” Read an interview with the author |
What the Tiles Know
by Carol Scheina Ira wiggled his fingers and the starburst crack under the shower soap dish faded away. Tile repair was his specialty; still, he didn’t want to make it seem too easy a fix, or have anyone asking questions he couldn’t answer, so he took a few moments to talk to the sunshine-yellow bathroom tiles in apartment 6B. Read an Interview with the Author |
I Demand Knives
by Sasha Brown Maddy always volunteered to be the first to die. She took every dare. Shut herself in the deepest closets for hide and seek. She was the first to run naked into ponds, sinking her bare feet in the muck. “Come on in!” she’d call. “The water’s fine!” All goose pimples, exhilarated, waiting for the scaly hand on her ankle. Read an Interview with the Author |
Tongue of the Necrophage
by Cyrus Amelia Fisher A dead name could cut deep, honed sharp by years of misuse. Kal felt theirs like a hook in the center of their back, dragging them towards the shouts that echoed through the trees. It couldn’t snare them, not anymore. Their bare feet cut into the sod and bramble of the forest floor, calling out to the thing that waited below. Their real family was the answer they felt, shivering up through the filaments in the earth and drawing them deeper into the dark... Read an Interview with the Author |
To the Resident of Temporal Pocket X0001-A
by E.S. Hovgaard You’ve mastered the art of time travel, experienced all but the end of your existence. Yet you relive the same twenty-four hours on repeat — ninety-one thousand, four hundred and twenty-three times, by our current count. Read an Interview with the Author |