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Winner, 2017 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Sandi liked math. When her grandmother suggested that high school might be easier if she’d lose a little weight, Sandi began counting calories. She worked out that she could have an ice cream soda if she skipped breakfast and lunch….

A petrified frog’s corpse floated down from a rafter in the garage, weightless because its bones had become powder. Death by damp garage. We held a vigil in our kitchen trashcan, sprinkled coffee grounds over it one rushing morning. Edmund, we called him. Long live….

Over their last breakfast at the condo in Montauk, Clay told Nicky about a new ride at Adventureland called “Spinning Dinghies,” which was just right for boys his age. Clay pretended to be astonished that Nicky hadn’t been to Adventureland in his nearly four years on this earth.

“She never took me,” Nicky explained matter-of-factly, pointing at Celia….

Cigarette smoke wafted in. I couldn’t see it but I could smell it. The densely acrid odor was wafting its way in. I was in the corner. In my apartment, I was sitting in the corner, on the floor. I was scratching my own head. I had a lot of hair for a guy my age….

Winner, 2016 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Michael’s afraid the TV will blow up again. Two others have burst right here in this living room. He pads his fingers against the TV’s black face. He loves the television. When he pulls his fingertips from the screen, they’re gray, powdered in fine dust….

Third Prize, 2016 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
I told her. Dozens of times. The Big House, as we called it, was a mountain of clutter — too much for a widow with vertigo. A few years ago Dad ended in a heap at the bottom of the staircase. Mom, serving lunch at the mission, didn’t find his body for hours….

First Prize, 2016 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
“Anna,” my lover says, “Why do you never talk about your family?” I am curled around her back. The delicate bones of her shoulder blades make indentations in my breasts. Her voice is clouded by sleep and blurring around the edges….

Second Prize, 2016 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
The key to her sultriness was her slowness, and the key to her slowness was her sadness — but when she was Lucinda la Miel, she forgot about all that. She gazed at the men in her audience as if…

Jesse was a beautiful boy. Fair-haired, eyes of indeterminate color – blue or green, it depended on the light. My favorite of my daughter Greta’s friends. I still remember the sandcastle we built, our last summer at the shore. A marvel of engineering, with a curtain wall…

Winner, 2015 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Ms. Kramer was explaining the difference between infinitives and imperatives to Lily Spencer for — not kidding — the fifth time when Jarod Troutman slapped a pair of cuffs on her. Half a pair, technically. The other ring was attached to his own wrist…