I step out onto the back porch near as soon as the storm ends. It’s black outside, cold and wet, the beam of my flashlight bouncing off all the little raindrops and making the whole yard sparkle. Cicadas are screaming in the early morning, the clouds are blocking out the stars, and I’m shivering in my light jacket as I take in the scene in front of me. I’m out here on a mission. There was a noise in the...
I don’t know what to do about the tiny man stuck between my teeth so I go to the dentist and ask him. The dentist yells at me for huffing laughing gas while I was waiting to be seen. Only I wasn’t. So then he yells at me for doing regular drugs, only I don’t. He tells me to open up so he can see this tiny man for himself — and sure enough, there he is. Making himself at...
Noah’s story goes that his father died when he was two years old, due to bacterial meningitis, and his mother died when he was sixteen, from a car accident caused by his older brother, Richard, who at twenty-three hanged himself in prison because he could not handle the guilt. Four years later, his eldest brother Benjamin was killed in the first terror attack, when the city buses were co-opted and bombed. He whispers, I am the last branch of my...
"Girls,” the doctor says, “we believe that you have consumed something strange.” The doctor wears a long white coat and when she raises her arm to check our vitals, we can see that she wears a pink shirt, her armpits ringed with sweat. This is good, we want to tell her, perhaps you know the truth. “So, what have you eaten?” she asks us. “Anything out of the ordinary?” We are not frequent visitors to the hospital. We know women...
Her guest brought a little clock, made of enamel, in a lovely mint-ice color. She had often seen him fiddling with such wounded appliances on the street corner where he liked to sit. When he saw her apartment, he whistled and said: What a swell pad. Don’t it make you sad to live in a big swell pad like this, all by your lonesome? Well, she said, I used to have Oscar. He reminded her of Oscar a little. The...
SmokeLong Quarterly has been dedicated to publishing the best flash narratives since 2003.
June 2026
I have so much to tell you. Issue 92 is a special competition issue: a combination of the top nine stories in The SmokeLong Quarterly Award for Flash Fiction competition and the top three stories in The SmokeLong Workshop Prize competition. All twelve pieces do something amazing with the form. Flash fiction is such a… Continue reading New Front (continue reading)
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Now in the shop
We’re doing it again! Promptember, an in-between almost month squished into the crannies of autumn, is an intense addition to the mensal calendar. It’s special. During the almost month of Promptember, we’ll meet regularly for generative write-ins and mingling. Promptember also includes three webinar/workshops and two open mics. There will be a dedicated space in… Continue reading Promptember 2026
Allison Field Bell is a multi-genre writer and teacher from California. She holds a PhD from the University of Utah and an MFA from New Mexico State University. Allison is the author of two collections: Bodies of Other Women (fiction, Red Hen Press, forthcoming) and All That Blue (poetry, Finishing Line Press). She is also the author of three chapbooks: Stitch (forthcoming), Without Woman or Body, and Edge of the Sea.
