Short Story (flash fiction) Of the Day, The Outing by Lydia Davis

…an attempt to be friendly…

—–Lydia Davis, The Outing

Chihuly glass sculptures in the creek, Dallas Arboretum

Only a few words can, in the hands of a genius’ pen, outline a long, sad, and wondrous story.

Read it here:

The Outing by Lydia Davis

Short Story Of the Day, I Can See Right Through You by Kelly Link

It’s hard for the demon lover to grow old.

—-Kelly Link, I Can See Right Through You

Nasher Sculpture Center, Dallas, Texas

I first read about Kelly Link and her fiction when I read that Salon had named her collection of short stories, Stranger Things Happen, a book of the year. I tracked down the paperback and read it – and it was as good as advertised. I’ve been a fan of her work – a weird melange of oddly modern adult stories told as twisted fairy tales – ever since.

I’ve linked to two of her short stories before – Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose (unfortunately, no longer online) and Catskin. Buy some of her books – and visit her publishing house – especially since she offers so much that she has written and/or published under a creative commons license.

So today I’ll link to I Can See Right Through You – it starts out fragmented and jumping around and then settles down and then veers into something a little unexpected. Worth it… genius, really.

Read it here:

I Can See Right Through You by Kelly Link

from McSweeney’s

Kelly Link Homepage

Small Beer Press

Kelly Link’s Twitter

Short Story (100 words) Of the Day, After a Heartless Winter by Juliana Gray

An animal, I said, when the tiller turned up bones.

—-Juliana Gray, After a Heartless Winter

(click to enlarge)


Read it here:

After a Heartless Winter by Juliana Gray

from 100 Word Story

Short Story Of the Day, The Island at Noon by Julio Cortazar

The island was visible for a few minutes, but the air was always so clean, and it was outlined by the sea with such a minute cruelty that the smallest details were implacably adjusted to the memory of the preceding flight: the green spot of the headland to the north, the lead-grey houses, the nets drying on the sand. When the nets weren’t there, Marini felt as if he had been robbed, insulted.

—-Julio Cortazar, The Island at Noon

Reflecting pool, Art District, Dallas, Texas

I have flown in airplanes often for well over a half-century. But still, even now, I act like a curious little kid in that I like to sit in a window seat and stare out at the land passing beneath. I always wonder exactly where we are. When we cross the center of the country  I look at the shape of lakes, try and memorize them, so I can look them up on maps. I look for well-known rivers, and highways. If we go over the Rockies I look for familiar peaks. When we cross the ocean, like the protagonist of today’s story, I look for islands – again, memorizing their shape.

My favorite thing is to spot someplace I have been before, that I recognize, and that I enjoy seeing from a new, unique, angle. It makes me happy.

Read today’s story here:

The Island at Noon, by Julio Cortazar

from Electric Literature

Short Story (flash fiction) Of the Day, Filler by Ben Segal

I started with a matchbox of sugar. I told Ray, “I will fill one thing with something else every day this year.” I’d been doing nothing for too long and Ray was there for the smoothness of my lack. He was handsome, too, which I still like in a friend. He was tall and charming and on a stool. He drew a small circle in pencil and passed it to me. “You can start with this.”

—-Ben Segal, Filler

Deep Ellum

Many years ago I had a job interview scheduled. The company offered to put me up in a nice (if not luxurious) hotel. Even though the interview was in the same town I lived in, I accepted their offer of a room for a night. I thought to myself, “even if I don’t get the job – I’ll come out ahead one night in a hotel.” Usually I would be nervous and have a hard time sleeping the night before a job interview. Being in a room, that big comfy bed, paid by someone else – I slept like a rock.

Read it here:

Filler by Ben Segal



Short Story (flash fiction) Of the day, Bedside, by Dan Ryan

“Then I’m definitely going to let Ma find the glass menagerie on her own!” I cried, and stormed out of her house—cut deep by this future she’d imagined without me.

—-Dan Ryan, Bedside



It’s hard right now to not think about what you leave behind. I need to clean my office room (the dogs have been in the trash). And don’t forget, there is digital now. Would you be comfortable with the people that follow you scrutinizing your hard drives? Your tablet? Moving through the directories, guessing at the filenames.

So you could password protect the things. But then you think that when you are gone, so is everything you collected. And that might be more frightening.

Read it here:

Bedside, by Dan Ryan

from Electric Literature

Dan Ryan Twitter