Micro Prose: The Founding of Rome by S. Craig Renfroe Jr.

The Founding of Rome I’m trying to feed baby girl, and she shakes her head, slaps the spoon from my hand, raspberries away any puree I manage to force into her mouth. I give myself a time out, but it doesn’t help. “You have to eat!” I come at her again. This time she shields…

Micro Prose: Saturday Morning by T. J. Butler

Later, the girls stand in front of the open refrigerator, slightly feral: slices of cheese torn from plastic, pickles from the jar, a swig of Hershey’s syrup, jelly scooped out with a finger.

Micro Prose: Parallax by Stephanie Bento

Parallax parallax, n. [pærəlæks] 1. You always drove whenever we’d take a road trip anywhere. Which was just fine with me. I’d sit beside you, staring out at the moving scenery or memorizing your profile. Sometimes I’d fall asleep to the gentle rhythm of the car treading along the asphalt and then we’d hit a…