Astrological insights from our twelve flash stories
On July 21, the date this will be published, Venus enters Virgo—which we can collectively see as an invitation to express love in tangible ways. But, whenever you read this, the invitation remains. Isn’t writing itself a way to express love in tangible ways? We find words, images, sounds, to express the things that move us, that we’re obsessed with, that we love. Isn’t writing a love language? A note, a gift, a caress.
In a prompt for the Lantern Review, Oliver de la Paz writes: “An obsession is not a terrible thing to have when you’re a writer. It can be a motivator—generative beacon.” These Flash Fiction writers write about obsessions: frosted donuts, astrology apps, a cinephile father, a beloved brother, an unwelcome other brother, a desiccated poultice, peeled persimmons, week-old oranges, Zoom chats, Ayurvedic creations, crises of faith, moon-kissed skin.
Aren’t horoscopes mini-anthologies of compressed astrological metaphors? In the spirit of the inaugural flash fiction horoscopes, we present an anthology of our second dozen pieces in the Flash Fiction series.
These horoscopes, which feature a line from piece, are presented in the spirit of play and wonder. We invite you to read them all. We hope you get literary and cosmic satiety from some of the freshest voices in Asian American fiction today.
Flash Fiction Editor, The Margins
That sweet aroma—one so acquainted with Jabril—was hanging brightly like a piece of the moon within this incantation.
Read more of “Zamalek’s Wings” by Anes Ahmed
She selected a single star on which to direct her attention. We are one light, she told herself.
Read more of “The Salted Sea” by Promiti Islam
I feel satisfied, triumphant, knowing I have loved the original donut well, though maybe it was only its glaze that I recognized.
Read more of “Minding the Gap” by Cindy Juyoung Ok
I don’t know what to tell you except that children are cruel and her emails were hilarious.
Read more of “Forgotten Densities” by Jemimah Wei
We learned about our Other Brother on a summer afternoon.
Read more of “Our Other Brother” by Michael Garberich
In Chinese, filial piety is a homophone for peel. I know crisp white apple slices, freshly 孝’d, are wasted on a child like me
Read more of “Fruit” by Julie Chen
Your mother always told you stories as she oiled your hair: of her youth, legends and fables, immigration, your father’s business ventures.
Read more of “Second Chances” by Priscilla Thomas
In that moment who was to say what belonged to me—Munir’s mouth, my luminous skin color, a setting sun, the shady place we were in, I could never tell anyone.
Like if we shared any of the same interests I could tell him how I recently learned that Kubrick in his younger days used to wander around New York City and play chess in parks
Read more of “Take Care” by Chris Lee
It is 10:40 a.m., I stare up at the ceiling, a collection of imprints. I am trying to count how many animals I can see sheeted above my head in all four corners.
Read more of “Queeranteen Sermon” by Jireh Deng
I never understood the concept of wearing an outfit only once, by which I mean I’ve never thought about my own wedding.
Read more of “Selfless” by Alli Cruz
“Scared, Starlight?” my big brother said smiling at me as we’d strapped our harnesses into place. “Don’t be.”
Read more of “Fossils” by Soniah Kamal