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Flash Fiction


Poetry by Elizabeth P. Glixman



Truth or Lie?

The lady in the black hat was angry.

The man told her he hated kids.

Why did she have to abduct one

From Toys r Us?

She said they needed money to support

His habit of eating kosher chickens.


I was three, but I knew the score.

They were all nuts,

especially the baby

who was really

the infamous gambling midget.

The baby wasn’t playing

with his fingers in the photo.

He was calculating the odds for the favorites at Hialeah.


“Shut up,” said the woman to the man and to the baby.

His stunted fingers were noisy.

“We need a photo to send to her parents.

We need it quick.”


This photo was mailed with a ransom note.

Three days later home safe

I wore the black hat

I took from the lady

when the police hauled all their...

off to jail.



Bessie's Blue Baby

Bessie promised everyone

I would grow to be a real beauty

even though I was blue

awkward entering life early


The family believed Bessie

She was the Goddess of the house

the mother of all grandmothers

who said no before you thought a question

You wore your underwear

on your head if she said boo


I gurgled in my incubator

My father knew about omniscience

He reached for a seltzer

He watched the fizz

Beauty is a big word

for a blue baby who spits


If I were Krishna

They wouldn’t mind my blueness

It was a beauty too large

for words

What they wanted

was a blonde

baby all smiley with white skin

I tried to Ingest the world

It was foreign to my gut


I grew older

searched for the papers that

revealed who owned me

If it wasn’t Bessie

I would not have to become

a beauty


Every year a woman in the family

called me her own

“This is my Betty,” they said

In convenience stores


shopping malls

I became theirs

I was made in their images

They were all Gods


Ownership satisfies

like a burp it satiates,

Crustaceans have this knowing

as they cling to the rocks

not believing the sea can pull

them away from their homes


I have grown

to be a real beauty

They gave me gorgeous lessons

drained the blue nurturance

from my skin

Dyed my hair so I could compliment

any dress at any event

I am the perfect accessory

They taught me to say yes

To stuff my face

with cookies at night

When cold cream hides faces


Bessie was a seer,

the seer of them all

I sit in a hospital for people

who don’t know their names

I am perfect, my hair is blonde,

my voice is ladylike

as quiet

as a lie