Tag: flash fiction

As Forest

This was our territory once. Every lifetime our places and times of day diminish, but as long as food sources remain plentiful we will stay here and adapt — learning to cross carefully the hard grey roadways and the daylight hours, the noise and… Continue Reading “As Forest”

Folded Field Notes: MICROPLASTICS

plastic bottles floating on the Hudson River

Want to join us on a literary ecology adventure?

Nautical Twilight PM Selection

Solstice Series Selection badge

A Dream of Dragons I see dragons in the sky while Eva sees attacking bears. Too quickly, the clouds shift and both sky creatures dissipate. The snow is on its way, Eva says. We better head home. We race each other back to the… Continue Reading “Nautical Twilight PM Selection”

Still Life with Motion

abstract of fire colors layered on ink blots

In photographs, the Earth is still a circle. It’s a geometry we keep relearning, just at new velocities. We’re always at the open end of the radius. Asymptotes. The way any two numbers have infinite numbers between them, two numbers even further apart have… Continue Reading “Still Life with Motion”

Solstice Series: Winter Submissions Open

Solstice Series: Submit your winter entries of poetry, flash fiction, and mini essay for free.

Between April and May

Coyote hunts the streets like a stray dog, her claws clicking along the asphalt. Among the urban diaspora, her lean shanks and rusty coat look primordial or alien. Her teeth flash among headlights like slashes of white paint on a dark canvas and her… Continue Reading “Between April and May”

Someone Lived Here

Solstice Series Selection Summer 2018

Someone lived here once. Someone, long forgotten, subdued this ground, stacking stone and wood and straw in rectangular constructions — a dwelling-place, with stable or cowshed. Someone beat back the yearly incursion of brambles and saplings to keep a vegetable garden or a chicken… Continue Reading “Someone Lived Here”

Longing

Solstice Series Selection Summer 2018

Today, the mirror stares at you. It stares at your lips, your red lips, your red red lips, your lips, red. Red like a cranberry. Red like the cardinal that perched on your windowsill yesterday, with the cocked head and clipped wing. He peered… Continue Reading “Longing”

The Task Eternal

frozen seed heads in snow drift

“The children need meat, Eli,” said Bess. They had circled the wagons on the east side of the mountain, so they could catch the sun first thing in the morning. The winter had been cruel this year. They had to bury three of their… Continue Reading “The Task Eternal”

2017 Wrap-Up

long exposure of waterfall

A note from the Editor in Chief When I look back at everything Folded Word published this year, I can’t believe how far this press has come in nine years. From Jessie Carty’s 2008 launch of the YouTube zine Shape of a Box to… Continue Reading “2017 Wrap-Up”