The Lost

Alone in my room
I feel the Lost
It pushes and pulls me
outside
beneath cold stars
I turn slowly
upon myself
breathing out
Paahh!
Paahh!
translucent puffs
I push them to you
alone in your room
absorb them
alone
in the Lost

My Fierce Kitten

All Hallows' Eve is approaching,
I've heard stories about what happens to Black Kittens...
So you were taken from your mother too soon.
You are  scared of shadows,
but are an expert mouser.
Some days you stretch languidly in my lap,
while others are spent under the porch.
I try to coax you out with cream and a nip,
to little avail.
Your favorite evening perch is just under the porch-gable,
where you wait for that fuzzy bat to flit within your grasp.
Will you murder it in a fit of violence,
or will you hold it tight, whispering in it's ear,
"We who own the night will always be lovers."
Your box and saucer are here always,
waiting.
But you rarely visit,
My fierce kitten.

Together We Can Bury It

"She is breathless to tell him. I have quit my job. I have stolen the brain. And together, we can bury it." -from "Blooms"
 
What an amazing collection of  Flash Fiction Gems! From first to last, entertaining and well written.

What flash fiction does best, and Kathy Fish has mastered, is to take an idea, dunk your head into it, then pull you back up, coughing and sputtering.

While I have read and written flash fiction before, I've not read it collected in book form. I must say, that I enjoyed it immensely.

Collected in five Chapters, with each story from a different point of view, this book should be enjoyed one story at a time and not as a continuing narrative.

For the first chapter I read all eight stories at one sitting. Frankly, I was left a little dizzy. The second chapter I read each story one at a time, but over the course of a day. That worked much better. I found that I needed to digest each story by itself.

I am looking forward to more delightful little worlds seen through the prose of Kathy Fish. The Lit Pub copy of this book is an extra special treasure as well.

Together We Can Bury Can Bury It can be purchased here.

The Children of Iteru

Shall we not tell the tale to our children
of the nameless ones
who would be gods of men
falling to earth atop pillars of fire
to enslave Ra's beloved

And how we threw them back into the heavens
our teeth stained with blood
hearts pumping the thick Nile mud
weeping for heroes lost
and silent witnesses

Sleep now
we will write your names in stone
that none shall forget
the fell deeds and honor
of the children of Iteru

Mr. Bench

 

If you go down to the park.

That park that nobody goes to anymore.

There are two benches, set back to back.

On one of the benches sits a man.

Not an old man or a young man.

Just a man.

Put some money into his hat.

Tell him your name.

Then sit on the other bench.

He will hunch over for a few minutes.

He will make strange noises.

He will tell you things.

Things about yourself.

Who your friends are.

Where you went to school.

What your dog's name is.

What you had for dinner Saturday Night.

Nobody knows.

How this is accomplished.

By the man on the bench.

"Earth Day" excerpt

I have sailed the eternal ether sea,
 between the  stars.
I have pushed out to meet the silence,
 and laughed.
I was the mote in god’s eye,
 and cried.
Today though is my earth day,
 intrepid explorer.
I have returned home,
 hero’s welcome.
I shall lie beneath her green grass,
 and rest.

-a Travelers’ Tale, anon

Martlet

I wandered that day along strange paths seeking forbidden knowledge. I saw you at meadows edge, arms outstretched as if embracing the late afternoon sun. Naked and plump like the first peaches of Summer; pale of skin and rosy bottomed. Bewitched, I stepped lightly over leaf and twig to your side.

You turned and beheld me as if I were a long awaited guest. Our eyes met and I saw your heart shine forth, like the light of an angel, from behind earthy brown eyes. Love came to me not as a cherub, but in the guise of the gay martlet that lit on your shoulder and whispered in your ear.

You floated gently away; drawing me into the golden meadow, promises of ancient knowing’s in your embrace. I could not move; you faded into nothingness leaving a whisper and a memory.

I linger days at meadows edge never entering. I have forsaken toil and pleasures of the flesh awaiting your return. The shadows over my soul deepen until all is black.

-Tom Allman