Can't Sleep / The Last Shoe Salesman
I cannot sleep. When I lay down and close my eyes, my eyes pop open like an uncooperative lid on a Tupperware. I feel a tightness in my chest and am acutely aware of my heartbeat. Am I dying? Is this dying? I reach for my phone and ask it “am I dying?” The response is not helpful. I ask my phone ‘what tightness in the chest and what being aware of your own heartbeat at bedtime means.’ It means a lot. This is not helpful, either. I throw a mental dart at a mental dartboard and
Tingles - a flash fiction story
This story made the top ten in The Molotov Cocktail lit zine Flash Fear contest. Please visit their site for other great short fiction. themolotovcocktail.com It started with tingles. Little bolts of electricity streaking from his ears to his brain and sometimes spider webbing through his body. They were an odd, kind of momentary pleasure that he couldn’t predict. The sound of a snip from the barber. The girl at the sub shop who said “pickles” with a hard “k.” A sigh from som
