Meg Pokrass is the author of Breath and Shadow: Six Sentence Stories (with Robert Scotellaro), First Law of Holes: New and Selected Stories (Dzanc Books, 2024) and eight previous collections of flash fiction and two novellas in flash. Her work has been published in three Norton anthologies, Flash Fiction America, New Micro, and Flash Fiction International, and has been included in Best Small Fictions, Wigleaf Top 50, and hundreds of literary magazines. Meg is the founding editor of Best Microfiction. For more about Meg, follow her at meg’s prompt newsletter,
Facebook, or
@megpokrass.bsky.social.
On/Off Switch Broken On a fine Sunday morning Mark Zuckerberg woke up with a large, reddish pimple on his thorax. It looked like an on/off button. He turned himself on, and the world went unfactual. Gone Unfactual for Coffee Wearing dark sunglasses and a Gone Unfactual t-shirt, Mark Zuckerberg was waiting for a coffee at Peets, scratching his nose. The skin… Read more →
In his Will, Dad left me the righthand corner of our back porch, the crawlspace where I used to hide out as a child, the basement where he first caught me making out with a boyfriend. Our eldest brother with the weight issues had been left the pantry where the earthquake crackers were kept. The middle brother, who inherited Dad’s… Read more →
It was a surprise when Jim announced that an old pal called Bob would be visiting. He had spoken of friends from his past, but never had he mentioned this one. “Bob, Robert? Roberto?” “Bob.” “Fair enough,” Paula said. “What is he like? Would you say he’s kind? funny? Peachy? Merry? Depraved? Perverted?” Jim wouldn’t describe people. “Bob,” he said,… Read more →
The year your mother drowned your father claims she became a porpoise. He would drive you to the beach where you’d both try and spot her. “They’re hardly ever visible here,” he’d say, binoculars swinging from his neck. You remember the day it snowed on the Pacifica beach when you were four years old. Flakes melted the second they hit… Read more →
“What are the chances of getting hit by a meteorite?” We were at Point Reyes seashore, had driven hours north of the city to watch the sunset. We drove to beautiful places in our untrustworthy car, wondering where and when it would die. “We live in the world’s most perfect place,” he’d remind me. “Except for earthquakes.” I wanted him… Read more →