Flora Fiction

07/24/2024

I swear, New York’s Board of Education swept up the teacher refuse from city schools and emptied the dustpan into P.S. 63. Other kids could rave about the teachers they looked up to, or those who had a critical influence on their lives. I only had oddballs.. Mr. Vilbig, my seventh-grade biology instructor, bragged that he’d been a Marine. He loved to blurt out, “Oorah!,” still sported a buzz cut, and spoke with the clipped cadence of a drill sergeant....

I swear, New York’s Board of Education swept up the teacher refuse from city schools and emptied the dustpan into P.S. 63. Other kids could rave about the teachers they looked up to, or those who had a critical influence on their lives. I only had oddballs.. Mr. Vilbig, my seventh-grade biology in...

07/21/2024

He was quiet that fallWithdrawnNew school, new gradeOld friends drifting awayHe took to walking the nearby woodsLiking the feeling of aloneness. One day on a whim he whittled a slingshotWhy? No clue.He carved the hackberry wood until it glistenedAdded stout rubber bands and a leather pouchTo hold the projectiles he would shoot…...

He was quiet that fallWithdrawnNew school, new gradeOld friends drifting awayHe took to walking the nearby woodsLiking the feeling of aloneness. One day on a whim he whittled a slingshotWhy? No clue.He carved the hackberry wood until it glistenedAdded stout rubber bands and a leather pouchTo hold th...

07/17/2024

Before flight, there is the dread,a complete silence of the flock, likea careful moment to reconsider, but alwaysthey push up from the coastal edge, pressinginto a 44,000 mile migration from Arctic Circle toAntarctica. At 4 ounces, they unfurlat the precipice of another summer. Rachel Blume is an MA/MFA student in Interior Alaska. A mother to a preschool boy, she is the recipient of the Karchmer Prize in fiction and a 2024 Storyknife Residency. With a focus in fiction, her work has appeared in Tulane's "Feminist Pedagogy," "Glass Mountain," and "Continue the Voice."

Before flight, there is the dread,a complete silence of the flock, likea careful moment to reconsider, but alwaysthey push up from the coastal edge, pressinginto a 44,000 mile migration from Arctic Circle toAntarctica. At 4 ounces, they unfurlat the precipice of another summer. Rachel Blume is an MA...

07/13/2024

Just as some people are addicted to the stars,I am fascinated by your beautyYour kindred soul and its unblemished puritySeeping through the cracks of your barbed wire wrapped in hasteScaring those without the patienceto stick through thick and thinor courage to be pricked by the thornsto see the rose within. Pizzerelle Marquis is a budding writer from the Philippines. She mainly writes to forge an intimate connection with her inner being.

Just as some people are addicted to the stars,I am fascinated by your beautyYour kindred soul and its unblemished puritySeeping through the cracks of your barbed wire wrapped in hasteScaring those without the patienceto stick through thick and thinor courage to be pricked by the thornsto see the ros...

07/10/2024

My grandmother, Mildred, was an independent woman and an entrepreneur.As Southern California was growing by leaps and bounds in the fifties, Mildred decided to supplement her husband’s salary as a cross country trucker with jobs as a part-time waitress, taking in laundry, sewing, and cleaning houses. In addition to raising three boys, she would provide daycare service to working women who lost their husbands in the war....

https://florafiction.com/a-notary-republic-by-jonathan-b-ferrini/

My grandmother, Mildred, was an independent woman and an entrepreneur.As Southern California was growing by leaps and bounds in the fifties, Mildred decided to supplement her husband’s salary as a cross country trucker with jobs as a part-time waitress, taking in laundry, sewing, and cleaning hous...

07/06/2024

Come away to the woods, my friend. The cedars are tall and gray. Their bark cracks off them like sun-split skin. Dig a well along the river and go to sleep among the reeds. If I sleep, I will dream. The gods will rattle the earth and drum on the clouds. The fires will creep from the city to the cedars and choke antelope with their smoke....

Come away to the woods, my friend. The cedars are tall and gray. Their bark cracks off them like sun-split skin. Dig a well along the river and go to sleep among the reeds. If I sleep, I will dream. The gods will rattle the earth and drum on the clouds. The fires will creep […]

07/04/2024

Driving through suburban Orlando with the kids in back, windows of the unairconditioned Pontiac rolled down, all Dusty could think was depressing. But it wasn’t the heat that made her depressed. It was the cloudlessness. There would be no afternoon summer rain, no napping children, no early cocktail hour. Today was all murderous blue. She was in the drive-thru at the ice cream shop....

Driving through suburban Orlando with the kids in back, windows of the unairconditioned Pontiac rolled down, all Dusty could think was depressing. But it wasn’t the heat that made her depressed. It was the cloudlessness. There would be no afternoon summer rain, no napping children, no early cockta...

06/29/2024

Their first real conversation about death, Susan remembers, was on her sixty-fifth birthday, when they were both in ebullient good health. “Let’s be realistic,” Charlie had said. “Sooner or later, everyone dies. Later, we hope. But when it comes, let’s not prolong it.” Imagine! That was twenty-three years ago! They’d agreed in a vague way, the way they might have agreed that if a flood came they should seek higher ground....

Their first real conversation about death, Susan remembers, was on her sixty-fifth birthday, when they were both in ebullient good health. “Let’s be realistic,” Charlie had said. “Sooner or later, everyone dies. Later, we hope. But when it comes, let’s not prolong it.” Imagine! That was ...

06/22/2024

with her anguished wails and the rhythmic percussion of objects crashing against the walls. In a display of resourcefulness, she most likely employed an old, rusty chair to force open the skylight and crawl out onto the rooftop. The skylight has been stuck for as long as my memory serves, holding Beth captive within its double-paned stronghold. At a certain point, Beth’s tempest momentarily subsided, giving way to the haunting rhythm of her anxious pacing, its ghostly echo resonating through the floorboards....

with her anguished wails and the rhythmic percussion of objects crashing against the walls. In a display of resourcefulness, she most likely employed an old, rusty chair to force open the skylight and crawl out onto the rooftop. The skylight has been stuck for as long as my memory serves, holding Be...

06/20/2024

Sometimes, I don’t lookat mirrors. My morning reflectionrecalls a storied past. The grey stubble of an old manwhose mask has fallen preyto time. A hesitant smile, a head nodacknowledge the vestigesof life’s experiences. A silvery streak of a scarinterrupts an eyebrow.The bridge of a not quite straight nose recallsa turbulent past....

Sometimes, I don’t lookat mirrors. My morning reflectionrecalls a storied past. The grey stubble of an old manwhose mask has fallen preyto time. A hesitant smile, a head nodacknowledge the vestigesof life’s experiences. A silvery streak of a scarinterrupts an eyebrow.The bridge of a not quite st...

06/16/2024

on what would have been my 30th wedding anniversary Even if the twenty buttons slipped sleekly into gapscunningly left in silken cord, evenif Italian lace sleeves eased like courtiersto their exact position on my wrists,even if the bodice clungcurvaceous, glistening with pearls;the silk taffeta like Niagaraover my hips, its rustle and swishlike sensuous pillow talk—...

on what would have been my 30th wedding anniversary Even if the twenty buttons slipped sleekly into gapscunningly left in silken cord, evenif Italian lace sleeves eased like courtiersto their exact position on my wrists,even if the bodice clungcurvaceous, glistening with pearls;the silk taffeta like...

06/13/2024

Cross-legged on my matlistening, body still, mind stillactive breath:focus in, focus outinhale, exhalecontrol, awareness A voice, soothing me to remembrancea childhood time of feeling only all encompassing loveonly non-judgmental acceptance Layers of years pull back effortlessly with each breath c*cle:concrete hexagons on the path through the park,the gleam of ancient trolley tracks straining up through fresh tar under the El,...

Cross-legged on my matlistening, body still, mind stillactive breath:focus in, focus outinhale, exhalecontrol, awareness A voice, soothing me to remembrancea childhood time of feeling only all encompassing loveonly non-judgmental acceptance Layers of years pull back effortlessly with each breath c*c...

06/09/2024

I was ill and trapped on a fast train, the TGV, racing from the Charles de Gaulle Airport to Angers (pronounced Onjay). Nasal congestion, wheeze, and runny eyes were bothering me so much, the French countryside and the villages whizzing past were tiresome, not exotic. Why did I go abroad in this condition? My daughter had pleaded for help—a panicky reaction to her first pregnancy—plus my wife and I wanted to see her and the baby....

I was ill and trapped on a fast train, the TGV, racing from the Charles de Gaulle Airport to Angers (pronounced Onjay). Nasal congestion, wheeze, and runny eyes were bothering me so much, the French countryside and the villages whizzing past were tiresome, not exotic. Why did I go abroad in this con...

06/06/2024

The church was of a particular luminescence that day. A cozy, incandescent light streamed in from the stained glass windows, creating a luminous pattern on the red carpet. The dusted air floated lazily and smelled of wood polish and familiar warmth. For Sister Margaret, these were the days of deep fulfillment and solace for her: alone with her thoughts in her home....

The church was of a particular luminescence that day. A cozy, incandescent light streamed in from the stained glass windows, creating a luminous pattern on the red carpet. The dusted air floated lazily and smelled of wood polish and familiar warmth. For Sister Margaret, these were the days of deep f...

06/02/2024

It was a three-meter board. Nearly ten feet off the water. To the boy it seemed like a mile. “Dare you!” His friends would challenge him. “You chicken?” Others would taunt. It was a public pool packed with kids all summer long. It was a great place and run around and goof off. And swim of course. They did a lot of swimming....

It was a three-meter board. Nearly ten feet off the water. To the boy it seemed like a mile. “Dare you!” His friends would challenge him. “You chicken?” Others would taunt. It was a public pool packed with kids all summer long. It was a great place and run around and goof off. […]

05/30/2024

I have gotten used to invisible hands. They held my gaze, whispered to me.Like a phantom lover, they mesmerized me.It has only been a short time since they touched me,And yet I am certain I can feel them now.I do not want to—I do. Soft steps approach me, whispering as they walk.My fear burns my veins, chills my body....

https://florafiction.com/room-192-by-claudia-wysocky/

I have gotten used to invisible hands.  They held my gaze, whispered to me.Like a phantom lover, they mesmerized me.It has only been a short time since they touched me,And yet I am certain I can feel them now.I do not want to—I do. Soft steps approach me, whispering as they walk.My fear burns ...

05/25/2024

The circle stain of a coldglass of sugar free sweet teasweating down the slick sidesstill strips the finish of my surface. The to***co stains on the wallleaves a smell of tar and smokethat trigger memories of timeswhen every chair was full Old women sat around placemats.They cackled and gossiped of goings onteasing the kids with greedy hands…...

The circle stain of a coldglass of sugar free sweet teasweating down the slick sidesstill strips the finish of my surface. The to***co stains on the wallleaves a smell of tar and smokethat trigger memories of timeswhen every chair was full Old women sat around placemats.They cackled and gossiped of....

05/23/2024

Lan wouldn’t have tried on those jeans if she hadn’t stumbled upon her former favorite pair while rummaging for activewear in the closet. She was fully aware that she had gained at least 20 kilograms since giving birth. Nevertheless, on a whim, she decided to give them a shot. With a deep breath, she attempted to zip them up, but the unforgiving waistband refused to budge....

Lan wouldn’t have tried on those jeans if she hadn’t stumbled upon her former favorite pair while rummaging for activewear in the closet. She was fully aware that she had gained at least 20 kilograms since giving birth. Nevertheless, on a whim, she decided to give them a shot. With a deep breath...

05/18/2024

On the third Saturday of August, 1969, half a million people worshipped bliss and ma*****na on a farm near Woodstock, New York, while Los Angeles police arrested the Manson family on the other side of the country. The British Army descended on Northern Ireland to quash the Bogside Riots. Sons of the American working class waded through the Mekong Delta with machine guns; Otto Stern, the Nobel laureate, died of a heart attack at his home in California; and my husband’s overpaid New York City lawyer friends drank mint juleps on the veranda of our vacation house by Lake Placid, ignoring the earth-shattering events around us, doing nothing of any lasting value to anyone at all....

On the third Saturday of August, 1969, half a million people worshipped bliss and ma*****na on a farm near Woodstock, New York, while Los Angeles police arrested the Manson family on the other side of the country. The British Army descended on Northern Ireland to quash the Bogside Riots. Sons of the...

05/16/2024

The Agway special was ten free chickens per kid, offer good while supplies last, so Gram was always one of the first through the doors, all us kids in tow. My brother, me, any cousins and a friend or two or seven if she could manage. We piled into her minivan, legs pretzeled together, seat belts shared or not worn at all as Gram flew over bumps and winter-worsened potholes that would never be filled....

The Agway special was ten free chickens per kid, offer good while supplies last, so Gram was always one of the first through the doors, all us kids in tow. My brother, me, any cousins and a friend or two or seven if she could manage. We piled into her minivan, legs pretzeled together, seat […]

05/11/2024

It is still, all asleep,Cabernet relaxes against the glass.The books facing meremind me of the girls,dresses all different colors,lined up across the hall atCYO dances, facing the boys,standing straight, short and tall,giving a certain flavorand aroma to the room,while waiting to be chosen. Full of words, but too shyto speak aggressively -...

It is still, all asleep,Cabernet relaxes against the glass.The books facing meremind me of the girls,dresses all different colors,lined up across the hall atCYO dances, facing the boys,standing straight, short and tall,giving a certain flavorand aroma to the room,while waiting to be chosen. Full of....

05/04/2024

What do you do? When you would die for the cause But it’s softly killing you Killing Too slowly Too softly They warn you of the storm Not of how calmly it comes in Calm centred with chaos Freewheeling with the breeze It’s so sweet It threatens to sink you So blissfully That other options are few So you bleed out …...

What do you do? When you would die for the cause But it’s softly killing you Killing Too slowly Too softly They warn you of the storm Not of how calmly it comes in Calm centred with chaos Freewheeling with the breeze It’s so sweet It threatens to sink you So blissfully That other options […]

05/04/2024

we are fragments, glinting goldenin the sunset, furnace sky burningmelting our wingswhich drip down our red-burnt backs and necksa tarring of flamboyant feathers and gray glueour voices echo and dampen, smothered by the heavy humid air every moment marks a new lossevery moment is a grave to rise from black bird on the patio…...

we are fragments, glinting goldenin the sunset, furnace sky burningmelting our wingswhich drip down our red-burnt backs and necksa tarring of flamboyant feathers and gray glueour voices echo and dampen, smothered by the heavy humid air every moment marks a new lossevery moment is a grave to rise fro...

04/27/2024

Lloyd’s legs dangled from his wooden stool when we played live. As his cheeks billowed and the saxophone wailed those stout appendages of his, never quite reaching the floor, popped and jolted with a terrific elasticity, striking the air like snakes. The music’s intoxication would wheel up from his lower half and convulse the whole of him, gut and chest and arms and all....

Lloyd’s legs dangled from his wooden stool when we played live. As his cheeks billowed and the saxophone wailed those stout appendages of his, never quite reaching the floor, popped and jolted with a terrific elasticity, striking the air like snakes. The music’s intoxication would wheel up from ...

04/20/2024

On the drive in from Cheney, he tuned to classical music. Brahms, the readout informed him. Something new for him; he didn’t know why. Maybe that he read classical music was soothing. The engine noise seemed to have fixed itself, or, maybe, the tick-ticking had been his imagination. This was no time for auto repairs, but he was better off than some guys....

On the drive in from Cheney, he tuned to classical music. Brahms, the readout informed him. Something new for him; he didn’t know why. Maybe that he read classical music was soothing. The engine noise seemed to have fixed itself, or, maybe, the tick-ticking had been his imagination. This was no ti...

04/13/2024

Every single thoughtThat haunts my mindTakes me back in timeTo all those peopleI loved some still hereSome have passed,Many moons agoAnd though they’re goneThey are still here,In my heart, in my soul,In memories of long ago. Each one of themShared with me his wisdom:To stay human, endure pain,...

Every single thoughtThat haunts my mindTakes me back in timeTo all those peopleI loved some still hereSome have passed,Many moons agoAnd though they’re goneThey are still here,In my heart, in my soul,In memories of long ago. Each one of themShared with me his wisdom:To stay human, endure pain,Even...

04/08/2024

"At the Beach When I Was Young" by Lois Perch Villemaire encapsulates the carefree spirit of youth, yearning to dance through the sand and dive into the ocean's embrace. 🌊💫 Immerse yourself in the imagery of innocence and adventure, where worries are swept away by the rhythm of the waves. 🏖️✨

Read more at: https://florafiction.com/at-the-beach-when-i-was-young-by-lois-perch-villemaire/

04/07/2024

Rising from the shadows into the light, Christine Mooney's "From a Past Rooted in Pain" is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. 🌅✨ A journey from darkness to dawn, her words remind us that the most beautiful daybreaks are often earned. 📚💫

"Leaving behind nights of terror and fear, Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear." - A reminder that after every hardship, there is clarity, joy, and the promise of a new beginning. 🕊️🌺

Let's celebrate the power of overcoming, the strength found in vulnerability, and the unbreakable bonds of love and family. 💖👩‍👦
https://florafiction.com/from-a-past-rooted-in-pain-by-christine-mooney/

04/06/2024

🌳👻 "Caddo" by Colleen Halupa 📚💫

Dive into the haunting depths of Caddo Lake with Colleen Halupa's gripping tale, where pearls are not the only secrets submerged in its murky waters. 🌲💦 George Murata's discovery sets off a chain of events, blurring the lines between greed, friendship, and the eerie whispers of the past. 🏞️🔍

A story steeped in the rich history and legends of East Texas, "Caddo" weaves a ghostly narrative that leaves you pondering the true cost of fortune. 🛶💎

Colleen Halupa, a seasoned writer and storyteller, invites you on a journey through the spectral shadows of Caddo Lake. Will the allure of pearls lead you astray, or will the lake's ghostly residents claim their due? 📖🕯️

Read "Caddo" and let yourself be ensnared by the mysteries that ripple beneath the surface. 🌘👤https://florafiction.com/caddo-by-colleen-halupa/

04/06/2024

1 Eurydice On my first evening in the land of the Dead I was sent, lamed and limping, to visit Persephone in her bo***ir. I sat by her elbow on a silk cushion. She wore green and silver veils, translucent, fraying at the edges. Her shadowed face was cold yet lambent. She said to me (as she would subsequently say to me; it became her habit): ‘Eurydice, did I ever tell you the story of my youth?’ Of course by now I have heard the story many times, and in almost every conceivable iteration, most of them outrageous fictions....

1 Eurydice On my first evening in the land of the Dead I was sent, lamed and limping, to visit Persephone in her bo***ir. I sat by her elbow on a silk cushion. She wore green and silver veils, translucent, fraying at the edges. Her shadowed face was cold yet lambent. She said […]