Flash Fiction of the Month chosen by Mary McLaughlin Slechta
As the coronavirus surges south and west of the Tri-State region, our final fiction seems to reflect the terror of having been at the epicenter. We have two runners-up. Hope Atlas poignantly describes a household unable to sleep without an unexpected solution, while Dd. Spungin tells a sad tale about the resurgence of old monsters during a woman’s isolation. Our winning story, told in a single sentence, is “Pandemic and Other Oblivions” by Jan Garden Castro. In sparse and poetic language, the narrator, a writer, reflects on an expanding feeling of terror.
Flash Fiction of the Month
Jan Garden Castro
Pandemic and other oblivions
Sometimes it’s not my body failing, it’s how my tale may find yours, how my hands on the keys can see further than lines of blue through the blinds and lines around Shoprite at 6:30 a.m.
***
Jan Garden Castro’s poetry is in her letterpress collection The Last Frontier (Eclectic Press) and in New Letters, Exquisite Corps, Roof, Black Renaissance Noire, etc. She’s Contributing Editor for Sculpture and author of The Art & Life of Georgia O’Keeffe, Sonia Delaunay: La Moderne, and more. She reviews for American Book Review and has received the CCLM Editor’s Award for River Styx Magazine. www.jancastro.com.
Honorable Mention
Hope Atlas
White Magic
It was 2 a.m. The phone rang once.
My mother quickly answered and hung up the phone. Suzie, I am just going over to visit a neighbor. “The call from the neighbor” was a nightly occurrence. I had come to depend on it. That “white magic” made her smile, talkative, full of energy. I was relieved to know she had finally found some—now, I could find some sleep.
Briefly she would be okay; but all too soon, she would not want anyone near her.
The next time the phone rang once, she would be happy again. For a while.
***
Hope Atlas writes her story through poetry, original quotes and memoirs, with a focus on mental health. Holding a master’s degree in reading education from Syracuse University, Hope has worked for 31 years in literacy programs. Her book, My Upside-Down World, Journaling, through unique quotes and prompts, debuted in May.
website
Honorable Mention
Dd. Spungin
No Sun On Sundays
Sundays are always the hardest. No one around. Kids long gone from the house, husband gone even longer. The TV for company, the radio for a soothing moment of old tunes. She recognizes herself, an old tune and no one’s favorite anymore.
What to do? Lift the phone, dial a number, take a chance on a stranger? The old bar pick-up scene way beyond her time, and her gray hair a dead giveaway. Go to a church function? Volunteer at the hospital? Hope for a wild evening at the local tavern?
Another Sunday edges into a lonely evening, a glass of cheap wine, a few cookies, a book borrowed from the library. It’s okay. She deserves nothing more. She can still hear her mother’s voice.
***
Dd. Spungin author of the collection, Tomorrow Smells Invisible (Words With Wings Press, 2020) hosts events for Poets In Nassau and Performance Poets Association on Long Island. Her poetry can be found in anthologies journals, most recently Maintenant 14, isacoustic, First Literary Review East, Fearless, and Poets To Come. Several of her poems have been set to music by NY composer, Julie Mandel.
As we restart our reading series in zoom format this summer, our Poem of the Week and Flash Fiction contests end this month. Thank you to everyone who submitted.
Submissions for our next print anthology open on October 15 and we welcome work from writers worldwide.