Flash Fiction by Eva Eliav

Myra said, “I fall a lot. Inside myself, I mean.” Henry stared. She wondered if he would get it. Probably not. And yet…she leaned...

“Does everybody lie about their lives?” The covers shift. Jacob’s fingers graze her stomach. “Probably.” She’s aware of his roughened...

Sal’s parents, especially her father, loved things that were beautiful and expensive. Sal accused him of having lousy values. She...

Ruth remembered the first time someone called her a cold fish. It was the day of the junior prom. She hadn’t felt like going, but...

“Oh, this is precious.” Silence. Joe’s nose is buried in a thick paperback history of Greece. I take a calming breath. “Joe.” Not...

“Look at the way that woman’s carrying her baby! No softness. No support. Her arm’s hooked around its middle. No wonder it’s bawling.”...

Michelle leans towards me across the table. “I obsess about death,” she confides. I sigh. I’m familiar with the problem. “How about...

Erica liked to have work done, nips and tucks. It was impossible to guess how old she was just from looking at her. You would have to...

The woman’s crushing a phone against her cheek shrieking her anguish. The entire street is listening. We pretend to be deeply engrossed...

The skeleton was immense. At first, the bones seemed part of the plateau, hewn from the stone, polished by primitive tools. They glowed...

“I have to tell you,” said Jess, “I’m really thrilled.” She was looking as she’d looked every day of the twenty years I’d known her: ...

“Last night, I dreamed about my mother. She was wearing a hat made of yellow flowers. It wasn’t sitting on her head, it was snug around...

“Remember the night that boy drowned?” said my mother. Well, I did. But I preferred to remember the gingerbread cake with lemon sauce...

“He only left a few,” my mother complained. George and Linda had come by for a visit, bringing a box of chocolates. My mother had...

Harriet wasn’t pretty at all. In fact, she looked odd. Her large, pale eyes bulged like lichees. As if that wasn’t enough, the...

“…and then she put her hand, her whole hand, flat on the back of my head. It was uncomfortable, but also…in a way…reassuring.”

On humid summer nights, we slept outside. My father dragged our mattresses into the yard. My mother carried a bulging pile of blankets....

When I was ten, there was a plague of June bugs. There were crushed bodies of June bugs everywhere. It looked as if the sidewalks had the...

George ate the same meal for dinner every night: grilled filet mignon, a small portion hardly larger than a demitasse, but the best...

“I babbled on merrily,” said Jane. “You’d think Harry’s life was a bowl of cherries.” Gordon’s eyes were fixed on the TV. Jane felt a...