Flash Fiction by Eva Eliav

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...

“I don’t know how to get older,” Sylvia said. “I’ve never done it before.” She linked her fingers crookedly in her lap. “Oh, you’ll...