Tag Archives: Fiction

by epawlowski1 | 09/09/2024 · 6:25 am

All In Good Fun

by Bastet Zyla

Dinah’s mother had only passed but two days ago, and here she was going through her attic all alone, to decide how to best proceed with a livelihood left behind.

Dinah’s younger brother had been gone since her adolescence– leukemia. While her oldest brother was stationed somewhere in the Middle East and couldn’t make it to the funeral (that is, if he had even gotten news of her death). She couldn’t tell you exactly where he was located, as he never wrote to anyone but his wife all the way down in Georgia. So with no other remaining siblings alive or present, Dinah was left to manage her late mother’s affairs singlehandedly. Continue reading →

Sick Days

by April Bannister

When her heart buys its ticket and packs its suitcase and settles in its window seat to watch the airplane heave up from the soil, she is at home—she has not yet laid in her hospital bed, nor stepped on an airplane herself. When her heart buys its ticket, she feels it, chloroform cold radiating from inside her chest. She panics. Hands clutch at something too deep to grasp, so she flails, alone in her bedroom, alone in the apartment. I can’t die yet, she thinks. There’s so much food I need to eat. Continue reading →

My Daughter is Shouting at Me

by Veronica Montes

Her tears and her spit and all her complicated feelings fly into the air.

She says many things including don’t make it about you, Mom, don’t. I nod and stop talking. I sneak a look at my son, who just flew in from New York. He’s scrolling through his texts. Continue reading →

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Tagged as Death, emotions, Fiction, flash fiction, Hawai'i Pacific Review, Reflection, Short Fiction, Short Story, Veronica Montes

by venusmairena | 05/09/2024 · 10:00 am

Ladrones

by Esteban Rodríguez

At least inside it was always December, a reliable winter unfurling from the lumps of ice clumped with a history of erupted sodas along the freezer walls. I rested my chin between the broken stacks of ice trays and the Ziploc bags stuffed with frostbitten meat I meant to cook, but never did. I turned and placed my cheek on the freezer bed, so glad to be home, and as that cool darkness began to numb my skin, I almost forgot the rabid sunlight Ana and I endured at la pulga all afternoon. Continue reading →

Survivors

by Ryan White

Within two years, Alice Sellers had lost her cat, Kevin, and her lifelong companion, Ruth. She would’ve given anything to get them back. But no such bargain could be had, so she wanted revenge. And since there was no revenge against hemorrhagic stroke, Alice’s last hope was killing the coyote that’d eaten Kevin five nights previous. Continue reading →

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Filed under Fiction

Tagged as animal companions, Creative Fiction, Fiction, Hawai'i Pacific Review, imagery, pet loss, revenge, Ryan White, Short Fiction, Short Story, wolves