Monthly Archives: January 2014

“A Dream Come True”

Posted on January 29, 2014 by vb guenther

(Claire Fuller) Yoshio loves the sounds of the various power tools used by woodworkers as they construct “Handmade by Amish” tables and chairs that are advertised on the giant billboard along the highway. Sometimes he succumbs to their music and … Continue reading →

“The Land of My Fathers”

Posted on January 22, 2014 by vb guenther

(Copyright: Björn Rudberg) My family farmed this land for generations. My great-great-grandfather cleared the first terrace and built the first wall; his son leveled the second, piled more stone. So it went, down to me. I was too good to … Continue reading →

Posted in Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction, Short Fiction, Short Story | Tagged art, artist, bridge painter, farming, inheritance, painter, stone walls, suspension bridge, the land of my fathers | 46 Comments

“My Life in Six Words” #2

Posted on January 21, 2014 by vb guenther

“White dress. War bride. Black dress.” All in white I walked to and from the altar my high school sweetheart clad in khaki beaming by my side. Nine months passed my love came home a flag atop his wooden suit. … Continue reading →

Posted in Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction, Poetry, Short Fiction, Short Story | Tagged altar, black dress, death, fatherless daughter., flag, khaki, mourning, soldier, soul, war bride, wedding, wedding dress, white dress, wooden coffin | 25 Comments

“Shades of ‘Sammy'”

Posted on January 17, 2014 by vb guenther

(Over at dVerse, Victoria recommends the use of active verbs.) I open-close the door to the dive on 29th Street and head-to-toe the crowd that’s swinging-and-swaying on the dance floor. My eye digitizes Izzy Cronin, my go-to guy. I slip-slide through … Continue reading →

Posted in Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction, Poetry, Short Fiction, Short Story | Tagged bar, dance floor, dance steps, dive, hit man, hootch | 13 Comments

“Nigerian Vigil”

Posted on January 15, 2014 by vb guenther

(copyright Erin Leary) As the sun burns through the veil of mist rising from the Gongola River, the tall woman from the village turns back to her hut. She comes every evening at dusk and stands until dawn, unmoving, like … Continue reading →

Posted in Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction, Short Fiction, Short Story | Tagged forced conscription, Gongola River, kidnapped children, Nigeria, rebel troops | 29 Comments

“My Life in Six Words”

Posted on January 14, 2014 by vb guenther

“Rich husband. Cool pool boy. Stripped.” My rich husband found me with the cool pool boy. I had stripped. Now I have: No rich husband. No pool. No cool pool boy. I’ve been Stripped. (Written for dVerse Poets, Open Link … Continue reading →

Posted in Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction, Poetry, Short Fiction, Short Story | Tagged pool, pool boy, rich husband, stripped of assets, stripped of clothing | 13 Comments

“The Ragged Ruin”

Posted on January 8, 2014 by vb guenther

(copyright Dawn Q. Landau) The ruin was still there; a ragged remnant of a horrific war. The cold, grey, cement structure, once camouflaged by surrounding coral rocks, was now rose-colored. He wondered if a coat of paint eased the memories … Continue reading →

Posted in Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction, Short Fiction, Short Story | Tagged battle, beach, bunker, explosion, World War II | 24 Comments