Two Micro Fictions
2025-Dec-02 • Cheryl Snell
Propagation of Anxiety in a Closed Network
Every day for a week now, I’ve found my sister asleep in the snow. You’re too old to make snow angels, I say. I was just taking a nap, she explains, like that time I crashed the car. My brother appears, all furrowed brow and bit lip. He carries her into the house where Mother warms her with her expert hugging. My brother and I wrap both of them in our arms. We are a huddle of freeze and thaw on the kitchen floor, and we all know it won’t end here.
Tandem
Mother is a helicopter. She hovers. I am a bird. I soar, a neon petal from whichever book I’ve just read in my beak. Words don’t always mean what they say, though: our paperboy, who rides his bike like a bull, says he’s a rebel but he’s not. He comes when he’s called, just like his dog. I like him best when he’s on his bike. When I ask my mother for one, she buys a bicycle built for two and hands me a crash helmet. Better safe than sorry, she says, knocking the helmet on her own head like wood.
Cheryl Snell
Cheryl Snell’s books include poetry and fiction of all sizes. Her work has recently appeared in Midway, Maudlin House, Eclectica and others. Her stories have been included in anthologies such as Best of the Net, Small Fictions, and Best Microfictions.