In the winter of the second grade, Miss Rudd wrote K-E-V-I-N in giant chalk letters on the board and told us he’d be coming back that day. Miss Rudd had shiny hazel hair that flowed down to her waist; she wore billowy ...
Paper Angels by Donna Obeid
Flash Fiction, LAR Online
When I go to the doctor to pick up the pills, I’m thinking about mothers. Not my own, or even hers. I’m thinking about my father’s mother. My father’s mother was born when women had only just gotten the right to ...
Out With the Bathwater by Rachel M. Beavers
Flash Fiction, LAR Online
Final Judge: John Weir
God Wears a Hard Hat by J. Dominic Patacsil
There comes a rare moment in life, when all else can and has failed, that you may find yourself like me, looking at a Dutch guide named Jan, who ...
Los Angeles Review 2023 Flash Fiction Award: J. Dominic Patacsil
Award Winners, Flash Fiction, LAR Online
The dead woman’s photo passed through us girls like a virus, illuminated in our cracked glass phone screens and threaded through our email chains. Her death was tinted seal sick blue, tinged darker around the corners ...
Trendsetters by Lauren E. Osborn
Flash Fiction, LAR Online
Telemetry. I woke up with a desire to use that word today but couldn't figure out how. It's nearing, oh, eleven o'clock now—PM, mind you—and I still haven't got it right. At the diner this morning I asked the server ...
Sources Say by Bradley David
Flash Fiction, LAR Online
As a child I used to climb our apple tree up close to the power lines where I could hear them crackling. My mouth-watered and fingers tingled when I imagined touching the wires. Our tree had knotty skin with crooked ...
Fracture by Michael Harper
Flash Fiction, LAR Online
We don’t come out as boys – not the first time, the second time, or the third. But we don’t give up the first gasp of air. We don’t know what we did wrong. We don’t see you, we don’t see you, we don’t see ...
Infanticide by Reema Rao-Patel
Flash Fiction, LAR Online
Mac had no idea how seriously Richard would fuck him up when he first spotted him from the terrace of the Pescado Rojo in old San Juan. Shit, I would have jumped his ass myself. I was on my fourth mezcal and lime and ...
After Mapplethorpe by Steve Olderman
Flash Fiction, LAR Online
I fetched a photo of myself from the future and projected it like a hologram onto everything I’ve done and will ever do. The sun rose on my image and I grew even brighter.
Manuscripts, shopping lists, entreaties, ...