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PEN American Center

Guernica/PEN Flash Series

The Guernica/PEN Flash Series is a collaborative effort in which both journals publish the best flash out there. Join the Flash Series mailing list here to receive our bi-weekly manuscripts by email, and stay tuned for news on an upcoming open reading period. 

January 28, 15

When I feel a human-sized void, is it instinctual that I fill it with a human? Read More  »

January 13, 15

I only know this small piece of quantum theory: a thing does not exist until it is looked at or measured. That is, the moon does not exist until we look at it. Read More  »

December 9, 14

But then there are daughters who become mothers, confusing the story because as mothers they remain, by definition, also daughters. How do they know which they are? Read More  »

November 18, 14

“You therefore ought to put some thought into what happiness means to you,” the German said turning towards me, ”Deer in the woods? Or deer on the plate?” I dropped my knife and fork. Read More  »

October 31, 14

I told the police I had fallen asleep at the wheel, but really, I saw them coming and swerved toward them on an impulse, just to see what it felt like. Read More  »

September 23, 14

he didn't have to say much anymore. he could imply. there was the equation, and the proof, and there was a little machine we could build and imagine it repeating itself on and on very fast to converge on the smooth truth of an equation. Read More  »

September 9, 14

My mother is the goddess of the seas. My fetus still floats in her womb. Perhaps I am a goddess, too. My mother guides the waves and the whirlpools. She guides the ships to shore … the fogs to the sky. Read More  »

August 12, 14

Dear Queen, maybe this is not your business but I have had a very troubled bowel since I was a child, which is exactly what Fidel Castro has suffered from all his life. Bad intestine, knotted and throbbed and bubbled. Read More  »

July 29, 14

I’m sorry for driving past and driving past and driving past all winter and into spring, and for watching, with interest—even, I’m ashamed to say, a kind of gross curiosity—as you became less and less of what you were, as you were ground down by...Read More  »

July 15, 14

No torsos, no chests, no bellies, just eyes that gazed at her, craved her, carved her into something unnatural, something ugly and immortal. Mailin chased this version of herself in the mirrors. The body always deformed, resembling not a peach, but...Read More  »