Open in app
Sign inGet started

Flash Tales

Lonely Are The Years

Lonely Are The Years

In the evening, there is no movement on the manor grounds, only a soft wind in the leaves of the great lindens and oaks under which I walk…
Go to the profile of Sylvia Heike
Sylvia Heike
Two Jacksons and a Grant

Two Jacksons and a Grant

Jackson awoke with a start — well, more of a silent scream really. He patted his chest. Clean. There should have been at least a half a…
Go to the profile of Pat Link
Pat Link
The Fate of the Follower

The Fate of the Follower

A Western Ghost Story for Halloween
Go to the profile of Steve B Howard NOVELIST
Steve B Howard NOVELIST
I Love You, Goodbye, Stranger

I Love You, Goodbye, Stranger

The only person who came to Daiki’s deathbed was a stranger, a woman with almond-shaped eyes, cherry-red lips, and dyed chestnut hair. She…
Go to the profile of Takeshi Chin
Takeshi Chin
Boys don’t Fly

Boys don’t Fly

Today I’m going to die, and there’ll be a picture of my face in the dictionary beside the word idiot. In my infinite foolishness, I’ve…
Go to the profile of John Tinney
John Tinney
My First Time Gambling

My First Time Gambling

The lessons I did not learn
Go to the profile of Edward Punales
Edward Punales
“And Now, My Beauty, I Must Pee”

“And Now, My Beauty, I Must Pee”

“You’re drunk.”
Go to the profile of Pat Link
Pat Link
What I’ll Remember Most

What I’ll Remember Most

They made their way up the foggy path on foot, huddled together. The cold and mist and dark seemed to press in.
Go to the profile of Adrien Carver
Adrien Carver
Until I Get Myself in Front of a Beer

Until I Get Myself in Front of a Beer

If the train had rolled into Sofia on time, I might have avoided the putrid underworld of Bulgarian train station toilets. But I really…
Go to the profile of Annabelle Strand
Annabelle Strand
About Lit UpLatest StoriesArchiveAbout MediumTermsPrivacyTeams