It’s true she never believed: He talked about his former life like he
wasn’t prepared to make another one. There was all the waiting; for
him to get a job, and a place, and stop reading her bookshelf daytimes
while she earned rent. Return to mother was his final option.
Karen Lillis

Fear gripped her. She washed the guard’s blood off—
before she lay down to have his baby in the cold dark cell.
Jeanette Cheezum

Thank you so much to all of you, writers and readers, for your support of Blink|Ink. Doug and I are excited to let you know that we are now accepting submissions of short fiction (around 50 words, or less) to the PRINT edition. If you are interested, please see the guidelines here, at Blink|Ink Print. [...]

Barry felt smug.  He wasn’t hooked on booze, dope, sex, porn, nicotine, caffeine, medication, food, TV.
He was completely oblivious to that which hooked unsophisticated, moiling mobs. He considered himself fabulous, a rare human being.  He’d reached perfection–Nirvana.
He pondered his magnificence while sucking gold-colored, Dial antibacterial bath soap.
Michael A. Kechula

“Help me, Doctor! I can’t write micro-fiction.”
“I’ll check your head bumps. A-hah! Your Inflated Prose and Superfluous Description bumps are too high.”
“Can you lower them?”
“Sure. For $200.”
“Then I’ll be able to write for Blink Ink?
“Absolutely.”
Frank paid.
“This may hurt. Nurse, hand me that sledgehammer.”
Michael A. Kechula