by Junpei Tarashi | Jul 1, 2021 | 2021, Flash Fiction, July
Every girl in junior school knows that one must never, under any circumstances, touch the door handle to the girls’ toilets. It is common knowledge that long ago a girl rubbed her fanny on it. It will forever hold ‘the lurgy’, which will be transferred from...
by Junpei Tarashi | Jun 8, 2021 | 2021, Flash Fiction, June
Soft Shadows by Adam Chabot https://www.agapanthuscollective.com.dream.website/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/Soft-Shadows-Adam-Chabot.mp3 It’s late but Benny and I are sipping Dewar’s and celebrating Dad’s 65th birthday on the deck that overlooks the backyard....
by Surosree Chaudhuri | May 7, 2021 | 2021, Flash Fiction, May
Who Taught You? by Joel Worford https://www.agapanthuscollective.com.dream.website/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/Who-Taught-You_-Reading-MP3.mp3 Blind dates: perfect. Skip the courting process, get right to the action. A Romantic? Some would say the opposite....
by Junpei Tarashi | Apr 15, 2021 | 2021, April, Flash Fiction
I have only seen Johnny Guitar once. Years ago, at the height of Tyler’s fondness of Joan Crawford, it was screening at an art house on Colfax that still ran film prints. There is a scene that stuck with me. I don’t remember when it happens—only that it is morning and...
by Junpei Tarashi | Apr 2, 2021 | 2021, April, Flash Fiction
Her name is Sarah. She knows that because it’s on her driver’s license. Sarah Brighton. It’s the same name that’s on her library card. The two pieces of identification she found in her handbag that is blue cloth, beaded, with a drawstring top. She knows her name, and...
by Junpei Tarashi | Mar 18, 2021 | 2021, Flash Fiction, March
In fifth grade, Helen and I performed a ritual to summon Bloody Mary, and she told me what to do but not why. We watched the mirror in the dark, nothing but a series of trick lines shaping a door we couldn’t open because it was on the other side of the room. I asked...
