Please enjoy these flash fiction pieces and check out Spark Magazine for more! Click here to go to the Spark website! If you're interested in writing your own flash fiction piece, check out this post by Kimberly Duffy, editor of Spark Magazine: How to Write Flash Fiction
Ella waved her alleged smartphone above her head through the sunroof of her Honda Civic, lifting her foot off the gas. Fields of green leafy plants waved back at her. They almost seemed...
Tap.
Clarice’s yellow ball rolled to a stop beside John’s black one. With her precise putt, she’d created an irresistible target...
Cassie strolled along the stone path leading to her new church. Boughs of garland, dotted with holly berries framed the windows of the chapel. Her heart quivered, unable to settle on an emotion...
Declan paced, studying the techniques of the first-year apprentices. Each approached the furnace with wrinkled brows, all but Caitlin, daughter of Waterford’s senior blower...
A gust of frigid air swished down the jetway, pricking Melanie’s wind-burned cheeks. She wrapped her knitted scarf around her face until she could barely peek over the edge. Thank goodness for Great-Aunt Nadine’s hobby...
With a permanent marker, Whitley crossed off the date. She rubbed her stomach, while Will, Jr. continued his afternoon kickboxing session on her ribs. Only two squares left on the calendar...
Cissy’s eyes drifted up from the dull words of her reading assignment—Killer Angels. No hope for a romantic thread on the battlefield at Gettysburg...
Sarah applied a fresh coat of gloss to her lips and checked her teeth for stray strawberry seeds. Why did she put herself through this every morning? Forest never...
With her tennis racquet swinging by her side, Evelyn skipped across the parking lot to the Island Club pro shop. More like a school girl than the fifty-five-ye...
The sea breeze ruffled the worn pages of Cammie’s copy of Pride and Prejudice.—ripples of joy skidded up her arms. Would the thrill of Mr. Darcy’s confession ever fail to transform her into a jellyfish?
Emmeline tugged at the hem of her micro-cocktail dress. Why did she let Chloe dictate her wardrobe? She glanced around the ballroom, brimming with the stylish elite...
