Latest Pulp Modern Flash Stories

Jeffrey James Higgins

WEDDING DAY by Jeffrey James Higgins

  The worst day for a wedding. Alexander stared out his bedroom window and watched guests dressed in tuxedos and gowns take their seats in chairs arranged on the lawn in front of the altar. A hundred friends and family all waited for the big moment. Alexander and Julie’s wedding …

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TERMINUS by Jim Towns

  The jagged cliffs of Vasquez Rocks were a row of lazy needles that leaned against the clear desert sky. The ’75 Chevy Nova Super Sport churned up gravel and dust as it drove up, and then came to a stop. The drivers’ door opened and a tall, powerfully built …

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TERMINAL ISLAND by Michael Carter

  Where did the bodies go? Christos and the other survivors asked. But the Little People, who used hand signs and whistling noises instead of spoken word, gave no answers. After they dragged from the wreck those who had died, the Little People guided the survivors to a village. Each …

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BICYCLES by Michael Bracken

  At first there was just one bicycle—a tiny, pink stingray with training wheels and a white wicker basket attached to the handlebars—that followed me throughout high school. Now there are more than two-dozen, but I don’t know how many exactly. I’ve stopped counting. They follow me everywhere. To work. …

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THE CULT OF HUGGY HAMSTER by Abi Marie Palmer

  Eleanor’s screams echoed through the empty park. She knew that no one would hear them but her captors. They ignored her objections and bore her onwards, tiny fingers gripping her arms with preternatural strength. Inwardly, she cursed. She cursed herself for recognizing too late the menace that had infiltrated …

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SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY by A.G. Hilton

  Floyd saw the car and knew it would turn in long before it began trundling up his gravel driveway. He pretended not to notice. Brim of his straw hat pulled low to block the sun, he took his time locking up the big barn doors as the car idled …

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THE MAN FROM GOLDMAN SACHS by Preston Lang

  At Cambridge Brothers Capital Markets Financial Group Incorporated, we had cock fights. In the stairwell after hours we’d strap razors to the birds and let them go at it. Dane, who specialized in emerging markets, was the organizer. Guys would come from all over the Street, and we’d generally …

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DEATH COMES TO UNCLE BOB by David Rachels

  In the woods next to the 17thfairway, I found my father standing over Uncle Bob with a bloody wedge in his hands. My father said, “This isn’t what it looks like.” I said, “You mean Uncle Bob isn’t dead?” The 17th hole had begun normally: Uncle Bob had driven …

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