New Short Fiction

New and recent short stories, sketches, flash fiction longer than 150 words and other fake but true things.

She Used To!

June 26, 2018 By Lars Peterson in New Short Fiction Tags: short fiction, bridgeport, gas station, roadster, tom joad

I was the night shift cashier at a gas station/mini-mart in Bridgeport, California one summer. Ours may have been the only gas station or store open all night on that stretch of 395 between Mammoth and Topaz. Not too many people pulled in, but we got enough to make it worthwhile to the station’s owner. One night in late August, just before four a.m. when the chill was really beginning to set in, an old MG roadster bounced up to the pumps. It was top down and stacked with suitcases, crushed u-haul boxes, picture frames, a bit of old carpet [Read More]

If a Famous NYT Restaurant Reviewer Sidelined as a Private Eye

March 20, 2017 By Lars Peterson in New Short Fiction Tags: private dick, sighing silk, mashups, mcsweeny-be, fictional

The woman who arrived for the appointment was a sigh of silk and tall brunette as she slid into the booth for her free consult. The waiter appeared a moment later, before we’d had a chance to introduce ourselves properly, perhaps a touch too prompt and efficient for the siesta service, but maybe he’d been short-tipped one time too many by young money boys who hadn’t earned their lunches yet. He smiled and greeted us with a trio of small plates: an amusing salmon croquette, two shining slivers of smoked trout, a dollop of crab leg meat and mayo. “That’s [Read More]

Remember When Amtrak Let a Bunch of Writers Ride Free?

February 13, 2017 By Lars Peterson in New Short Fiction Tags: amtrak, writers, government, zephyr

Wouldn’t it be great if lots of government orgs did that, too? US Postal Service “1 pm. Lunch over we set out to cover the southwest corner of the 90803, a route no carrier enjoys due to its paucity of shade trees and its plenty of hounds. My carrier quips that he spends his days in a haze of barks and yelps, and indeed, the barks and yelps do seem to follow us up and down the sunbaked blocks.” US Forest Service “3 pm and the fourth pot of coffee of the day. Before I agreed to accept this residency [Read More]

The Greatest Cat Tale Ever Told

April 8, 2016 By Lars Peterson in New Short Fiction Tags: crow, vanity fiction, jerry, cat, possum

My gabby landlord Jerry lived in the back house on the two-house lot we shared and he used to bend my ear for hours on end — all of it utterly forgettable except for the following tale. Jerry used to have an old tomcat that kept the local vermin population under control, or at least in a reliable state of unease. The cat spent most of its time sleeping under the rose bushes up near the house I rented or in the sun on the deck of the hot tub back beside Jerry’s kitchen door. In between was Jerry’s beautiful [Read More]

Of Dogs and Donuts

October 7, 2014 By Pete Galvan in New Short Fiction Tags: dogs, fiction, short fiction, donuts, fences, pigs

I utter to myself, “Your soul is Rome but your hopes are Pompei.” Time has done to my face what the Internet has done to human decency. I descend the stairs noting that 100 years has made them the deepest conceivable brown. “It smells like an old trumpet case in here.” My reluctance has become the issue. No longer is the issue the powdered donuts I venture out to buy. Rather it is my reluctance. My reluctance to step out into the harsh, sallow light unique to this geography. Dust steeps in the humid air and the nearby highway moans [Read More]

The Sandwich

August 9, 2014 By Lars Peterson in New Short Fiction Tags: short fiction, publishing, sandwich, chat, email

From: jmacallan@gmail.com To: jawalma@gmail.com Subject: RE: Sandwich That’s better. Don’t forget again! Your assistant? Must be nice. When do I get an assistant? I think if you’re the only competent one then worldfarer is in a world of hurt! (j/k) ILY -J From: jawalma@gmail.com To: jmacallan@gmail.com Subject: RE: Sandwich Oh, opps – ILY. Also: Yes, of course. East Africa was only part of the celebration, sweetie. Yeah, far. Gonna send EBeth on her first ever solo press check. The price for this honor is picking up my sandwich on the way back. I’ll probably have to buy her one, [Read More]

Not the Dog!

May 31, 2013 By Lars Peterson in New Short Fiction Tags: dogs, fiction, short fiction, doughty

One afternoon I told my friend John Scane I was maybe planning on watching I Am Legend later that evening on streaming, and I said, “Hey have you seen it?” and he said, “Yeah, sure a while ago. It’s pretty good,” and I said, “It’s got zombies, though, right? You know I can’t take too much of the gore and stuff,” and he said, “Yeah, there’s zombies. It’s scary, but no real gore. You should be OK,” and I said, “OK.” So the movie started and there was that beautiful dog, and I texted John and texted, “the dog? do [Read More]

Making a Buck

May 17, 2013 By Lars Peterson in New Short Fiction Tags: fiction, short fiction, buck, ginger ale, rye, bourbon, sling, whole foods

Today at the checkout in Whole Foods, the checkout girl, or young woman, I guess, scanned my fancy ginger ale and said, “Making a Ginger Ale Mojito?” “Err, no. Not a … Mojito. I will be making a Buck.” “A … Buck?” “Yes. It is an old cocktail, well not truly a cocktail since there are no bitters, but nobody really pays attention to that. It’s a descendant of the Sling, which is an even older mixture, a portable Punch. Grog fits in there, too. A Buck is ginger ale, rye, and the juice of half a lime, over ice, in [Read More]

See the Orange Write the Orange

May 9, 2013 By Lars Peterson in New Short Fiction Tags: fiction, short fiction, oranges, Robert Wallace, students

It’s poetry month at the writing academy and I want the students to practice describing things accurately. From a suggestion in Robert Wallace’s Writing Poems, I’ve decided to use the first springtime oranges as objects to describe. We read a few haikus, first, to get an idea about how an accurate description of a thing can say something about the poet (or more). I like to keep things simple at the writing academy. I cut an orange in half, then I cut one of the halves into four pieces and arrange everything onto a translucent plastic plate. The plate is yellowish, the [Read More]

The Monkey Trials

April 19, 2013 By John Brantingham in New Short Fiction Tags: fiction, short fiction, monkey trial

Harrison doesn’t understand what he’s seeing at first. He’s trying to drive his car into the garage, but it’s blocked by some kind of mess strewn across the floor, so he parks in the alley and walks inside, flipping on the extra light as he comes in. It turns out that it’s not a mess, and, in fact, it’s pretty well organized. Stanley has arranged most of his stuffed animals in a semicircle facing the back wall, and there seems to be a logic to the seating as well. The monkeys sit up front, ten of them in all, followed [Read More]

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