"Because of its wings, it only stands. It never rides in the car—it wouldn’t fit. It rides on top, serene, or else just re-appears with a swirl of dove feathers and a whiff of red wine." Heartbreaking tale that lingers by @travisflatt.bsky.social#NFFRnewflashfiction.com/grief-sandwi...
"Nana catches the ghost of Esme’s fingers on the photo and exiles her like the criminal she is. Nana says she’s told her and she’s told her but Esme’s a little girl who never learned her manners." Esme learns her lesson by @nomad-sw18.bsky.social#flashfiction
A finger on the lips, a rubbing of the brow, a curling of the lip even at the threshold. This is the snip-snip rhythm Esme finds at Nana’s now that Grampa is gone.
Congratulations from all of us here at NFFR to Shane Larkin, Fiona McKay, J W Goll, Daniel Addercouth, and Imogen Rae, whose stories have been selected for Best Small Fictions and Best Microfictions 2024! #flashfiction
Congratulations from all of us here at NFFR to Shane Larkin, Fiona McKay, J W Goll, Daniel Addercouth, and Imogen Rae, whose stories have been selected for Best Small Fictions and Best Microfictions 2...
So I'm idly singing this song, cleaning my kitchen and was wondering where I heard it: The answer? From the #CBCwww.youtube.com/watch?v=nFfR...
An animated film about the hardships of voyageurs' lives in the early Canadian fur trade.1978 | 1 minWatch more free films on NFB.ca → http://bit.ly/YThpNFBS...
NFFR is pleased to nominate the following stories to the Best Small Fictions: “The Good Prizes” by Daniel Addercouth, “Fucking John Wayne” by @sarahillswrites.bsky.social@fionamckay.bsky.social#flash#author
NFFR is pleased to announce that we have nominated the following stories to the Best Small Fictions anthology competition.
I enjoyed reading for NFFR so much. I do so hope you will send them your writing.
Little longer than 300: "Black Annis" by @mattkendrick.bsky.socialhttps://newflashfiction.com/black-annis-by-matt-kendricks/
Her body is on the ground by the pigpen. The Abbess kneels beside it, washing away the blood, scrubbing at the blue dye until there is only the winter white of her skin.