short fiction
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“Holly lays in bed, one leg bent over the edge, the other bare foot resting on the cool creased pillow. Pink toes. Avon Pink Minx. She idles the morning away, watching cartoons and smoking cigarette after cigarette. Charlie would not approve but Charlie is not here. Holly throws an arm behind her head and stares…
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I am so thrilled that my short story “Places Still On Fire” has been shortlisted for The Masters Review Volume IV! See the official announcement here. Guest editor Kevin Brockmeier (!!!) will make his final decision by the end of May. I’m honestly thrilled to know that even if my story is not selected, it…
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I have a new short story up at The Bohemyth! Alma Regards A Brutal Enemy was inspired by a photograph taken by Pearl Phelan. Special thanks to Pearl for offering the inspiration! Please take a moment to check them out and drop me a line if you liked them!
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I am really excited to announce that my short story Future Bohemic Boyfriend has been selected as part of The Bohemyth‘s Best Of, So Far issue. Please join me in congratulating editors Michael Naghten Shanks and Alice Walsh as they celebrate two years publishing The Bohemyth. They consistently publish top notch fiction, non-fiction, poetry and photography. I…
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My short story, Chasing The Cracks, has been nominated for a 2014 Pushcart Prize. This story was published in 94 Creations #6 in October. From 94 Creation’s website: “94 Creations nominates the works of four outstanding contributors for The Pushcart Prize, a prestigious American literary prize by Pushcart Press that honors the best poetry, short fiction, and essays published…
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I am so proud to have a new short story, “Chasing The Cracks” published at 94 Creations Issue 6. This edition is available through amazon.com. http://goo.gl/MwRxPp According to their website, “94 Creations is a literary journal that publishes an eclectic assortment of outstanding fiction, creative nonfiction, poetry, drama, and art by both emerging and established writers and artists.”
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All the kids in the neighborhood would come together, in silence and black clothes, just as dusk was settling in. Together, they’d cry out, “One o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock…” A child, the first unlucky ghost, would run and hide. “Four o’clock, five o’clock, six o’clock…” The bravest boy would begin to inch away from…
Brianne M. Kohl 