“‘First runner up’” is just another way to say ‘third place’,” said June, curling her white gloved fingers over Edye’s thin wrist and squeezing it hard. The pop and hiss of camera lights reminded Edye to keep her frosty composure. She shoved the trophy into June’s free hand, hoping to crack a nail tip or two. 

“‘First runner up’” is just another way to say ‘third place’,” said June, curling her white gloved fingers over Edye’s thin wrist and squeezing it hard. The pop and hiss of camera lights reminded Edye to keep her frosty composure. She shoved the trophy into June’s free hand, hoping to crack a nail tip or two. 

scroll63 vintage photography collage meatloaf flash fiction

Everyone has something to say at staff meetings. Except for Mallory Johnston. Today she broods silently in the corner, scribbling in her wide-ruled notebook until the tip of her pen punctures the page. She continues to scratch through the pages, one at a time, until the pen goes through the other side, creating a keyhole that she can peer through.

Everyone has something to say at staff meetings. Except for Mallory Johnston. Today she broods silently in the corner, scribbling in her wide-ruled notebook until the tip of her pen punctures the page. She continues to scratch through the pages, one at a time, until the pen goes through the other side, creating a keyhole that she can peer through.

collage vintage photography scroll63 strawberryshortcake

Lisa Anne wanted a man who would smash a whole pie in her face during sex. She told only her therapist, who advised her to avoid bakeries—especially those with window displays—in case the sight of dessert roused impure thoughts. 
"What if it was just a small tart, maybe a danish?"
"That just won’t do. It must be key lime or chocolate cream or coconut. I want it to stick to my face like a mask, fill my nostrils and get between my lips so I can only barely taste it."

Lisa Anne wanted a man who would smash a whole pie in her face during sex. She told only her therapist, who advised her to avoid bakeries—especially those with window displays—in case the sight of dessert roused impure thoughts. 


"What if it was just a small tart, maybe a danish?"

"That just won’t do. It must be key lime or chocolate cream or coconut. I want it to stick to my face like a mask, fill my nostrils and get between my lips so I can only barely taste it."

collage pie dessert yearbook arkansas scroll63 foodporn

Margaret abstained from her afternoon ritual of grazing on sweetbreads and cookies, reaching instead for a slab of rice cake from the pantry. She looked enviously at her friends’ snacks, which were heaped with butter and golden domes of marmalade. She chewed the rice cake until it was pulp in her mouth, dreaming of her winter formal dress (pressed and safely stowed in her closet) and how it was shaped, cruelly, like a cupcake. 

Margaret abstained from her afternoon ritual of grazing on sweetbreads and cookies, reaching instead for a slab of rice cake from the pantry. She looked enviously at her friends’ snacks, which were heaped with butter and golden domes of marmalade. She chewed the rice cake until it was pulp in her mouth, dreaming of her winter formal dress (pressed and safely stowed in her closet) and how it was shaped, cruelly, like a cupcake. 

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