Category Archives: Flash Fiction



Merle Shiflett loves pick-axes.   He has a special one that he sanded down so that his hands fit perfectly around the middle. He loves to stare at their handles and let his fingers trace down where they are thick at the top and then slope inward like a woman’s calf. When he wraps his fingers around his favorite pick-ax, Merle is always reminded just how magical and wonderful the world can be.

Merle Shiflett loves it when the doorbell rings.  Because that means visitors.  And Merle Shiflett loves visitors, too.

Especially when he knows they’ll be staying forever.