Flash Fiction: Confusion


Confusion set in a few years ago, but recently its gotten worse. Before my mind went blank, I could remember the general direction of where the car was parked. But now, I seem to wander around the foggy sea of cars hoping that one of them is mine.

Excerpt from my story, Confusion on Friday Flash Fiction.

Crow Friday: Gooey Poems


My poems

Are like homemade

Chocolate chip cookies–

Fresh, gooey

And warm.

I try to bake

Them slowly

With a little bit

Of my soul.

Each poem is flavorful,

Each stanza

stands alone.

I mix

Just enough sugar,

Flour and butter–

Not too sweet,

Not too dry.

I taste the poem

Out loud.

I wash it down

With an ice-cold

Glass of milk.

And wrap the poems

In a cute, red bow.

©️mark tulin

Flash Fiction: Old Converse


As I placed the donation pile into a large garbage bag for Goodwill, a flood of emotions hit me when I came across an old pair of hi-top Converse sneakers. They had holes in the soles and frayed edges, but I loved wearing them. Putting them in the trash bag made me feel guilty.

An excerpt from Old Converse at Friday Flash Fiction.

Confession Sunday: Bodily Dysfunctions


Confession Sunday

Some years ago I was in Washington, D.C. with my ex-wife touring all the museums and sights. At one point, she had to go to the bathroom, but there weren’t any restrooms in sight, and she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Before I knew it, my ex-wife was at the side of the building taking a pee on the White House lawn. She had courage.