gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com
The Gloomy Seahorse: April 2010
http://gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com/2010_04_01_archive.html
A blogzine devoted to flash fiction. Tuesday, 20 April 2010. When the man known as John Loop died he was buried in an old churchyard and his friends cut some flowers from his own garden to lay respectfully on his grave. The rains came and the dead flowers began to slowly rot. It wasn't easy for the daffodil to uproot itself and walk all the way to the churchyard. Even the hardiest perennials find such activity exhausting and rarely indulge in it, so for a daffodil it was gruelling in the extreme....Then ...
gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com
The Gloomy Seahorse: Frame-Tale
http://gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com/2010/10/frame-tale.html
A blogzine devoted to flash fiction. Friday, 15 October 2010. Note: This piece is simultaneously a microfiction and the longest story in existence. It is, in fact, an infinite story; and it is one of the clearest examples of John Barth's conceptual debt to Jorge Luis Borges. It can be found in Barth's excellent short story collection,. Lost in the Funhouse: Fiction for Print, Tape, Live Voice. John Barth (1930-) is an American writer most famous for vast postmodern epics such as. View my complete profile.
gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com
The Gloomy Seahorse: The Picnic Party
http://gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com/2009/09/picnic-party.html
A blogzine devoted to flash fiction. Tuesday, 1 September 2009. Gushing Downs was peppered with picnic parties: a loom of dawnlight; twirling parasols; bright checked tablecloths spread over the greenest grass possible (possible, that is, outside the scope of a painting); wicker baskets brimming with edible goodies of every dietary persuasion; and joyful, sexy people. Nice day, Louise." A hand both saluted and shaded the sun. It'll be even nicer when the wine coolers arrive.". The ugliest pulled face?
gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com
The Gloomy Seahorse: The Tail of the Sphinx
http://gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com/2010/07/tail-of-sphinx.html
A blogzine devoted to flash fiction. Tuesday, 27 July 2010. The Tail of the Sphinx. A dog of a taciturn disposition said to his Tail:. Whenever I am angry you rise and bristle; when I am pleased you wag; when I am alarmed you tuck yourself in out of danger. You are too mercurial - you disclose all my emotions. My notion is that tails are given to conceal thought. It is my dearest ambition to be as impassive as the Sphinx.". One hundred and forty-nine tons of sand on its tail.". A stone tail.".
gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com
The Gloomy Seahorse: August 2009
http://gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com/2009_08_01_archive.html
A blogzine devoted to flash fiction. Tuesday, 25 August 2009. There was a town where everything was forbidden. Now, since the only thing that wasn't forbidden was the game tip-cat, the town's subjects used to assemble on meadows behind the town and spend the day there playing tip-cat. And as the laws forbidding things had been introduced one at a time and always with good reason, no one found any cause for complaint or had any trouble getting used to them. The people went on playing tip-cat. Then without...
gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com
The Gloomy Seahorse: October 2010
http://gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com/2010_10_01_archive.html
A blogzine devoted to flash fiction. Friday, 15 October 2010. Note: This piece is simultaneously a microfiction and the longest story in existence. It is, in fact, an infinite story; and it is one of the clearest examples of John Barth's conceptual debt to Jorge Luis Borges. It can be found in Barth's excellent short story collection,. Lost in the Funhouse: Fiction for Print, Tape, Live Voice. John Barth (1930-) is an American writer most famous for vast postmodern epics such as. View my complete profile.
gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com
The Gloomy Seahorse: Cornell
http://gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com/2010/04/cornell.html
A blogzine devoted to flash fiction. Sunday, 11 April 2010. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). I am a blogzine featuring flash absurdist fiction. View my complete profile. The Spoons That Are My Ears. Art by Adele Whittle.
gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com
The Gloomy Seahorse: December 2009
http://gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com/2009_12_01_archive.html
A blogzine devoted to flash fiction. Sunday, 13 December 2009. Moulds of the Earth. One time I happened to be in Puławy with a certain botanist. We were seating ourselves by the Temple of the Sibyl on a bench next to a boulder grown over with mosses or moulds which my learned companion had been studying for several years. I asked what he found of interest in examining the irregular splotches of beige, grey, green, yellow or red? 8220;As it is among people,” I interjected. Looking intently, I made out on ...
gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com
The Gloomy Seahorse: A Shortish Gent
http://gloomyseahorse.blogspot.com/2009/08/shortish-gent.html
A blogzine devoted to flash fiction. Tuesday, 18 August 2009. The gentleman, he said: - Don't worry, ladies and gents: I've already had the vaccination. You can see - I've got a protruding pebble in my right eye. That was also once quite an incident. I've already got used to that. Now everything's just fine and dandy! And with these words the gentleman replaced his hat and went off somewhere into the margins, leaving the troubled crowd in complete bewilderment. And "Poems aren't pies, we aren't herring!
