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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.

 

We're Now Open for Submissions!

Write us a story in 1,000 words or fewer. Flash fiction, prose poetry, vignettes, whatever—just make it self-contained and powerful enough to linger with our readers. We do not accept work that has previously appeared in print or online anywhere. So what are you waiting for? Flash us.

Click here to submit »

Simultaneous submissions are welcome and encouraged.

July 22, 15

You had to buy a good monkey, to know where it came from, for at least five years of guaranteed love, you had to know what it had or hadn’t done, as if you were getting married. Read More  »

July 10, 15

“Stay? Go?”—the choice, the freedom to choose suffocating like a plastic bag atop her head, a hijab tied around her neck, as if an answer would erase doubt, a question’s anodyne Read More  »

June 19, 15

I think if I popped you a bunch of snakes would wriggle out. Well go on then, you can say something, I think. I’m giving you permission, I said, knowing exactly how much it would irk you. So we kill each other tomorrow—nothing passionate there. Read More  »

May 29, 15

Kelly was a thief too but he told himself he only stole what no one wanted. What he could tell himself hurt no one. A hierarchy of opportunity and morality. Read More  »

May 15, 15

He tried to run over the wife with his truck and then threatened her with a claw hammer. She told the police. Ask yourself why this sign didn’t signify violence. Read More  »

May 8, 15

If she succeeds, if she births a kid that lives, then they will try others. Who knows? The Javan tiger, the Zanzibar leopard, a black rhino or white rhino maybe. Read More  »

May 1, 15

Why are the only people I ever fall in love with the ones who won’t sing me? Read More  »

April 24, 15

The next time you are with a girl, it feels like the house you grew up in except all the doors have moved. You know what’s inside but you have no clue how to get there. Read More  »

April 17, 15

Stone was but stone, and marble belonged to the hills, they said. The patient carving and chiseling of men long gone would not remain to remind us that we could be gods, if we wanted to. Read More  »

April 10, 15

With perfect provocation, I still refuse to turn. Why trade my world for the one they’ve relentlessly prepared and preferred for me, hour after hour, day after day? Read More  »

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