We all have room. Room for shiny, pearl-footed memories to creep in, and cling to our skulls like skin. These memories have room for us to chuckle or cry or level their thrones with our peasant bones. They pluck our feelings like gems, and trap them inside faded crowns.
YOU ARE READING
Flash Fiction and Short-Shorts
AcakAll stories here are 1000 words or less. Though small, they are big in meaning. There are also writing prompts for the dreaded block. The Rochambeau drawing is inspired by one of his portraits; the Lafayette one is not. If you are witty often enou...
