My Flash Fiction Story, Laundry, is at the Subject and Verb Agreement Press

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amreading, amwriting, attraction, Flash Fiction, grief, Laundry, loss, love, microfiction, publication, relationships, reprints, resolution, Spelk Fiction, Subject and Verb Agreement Press, writerscommunity

Many thanks to the Editor Jesse at Subject And Verb Agreement Press, my flash fiction story, Laundry, which first appeared at Spelk Fiction, is at their website.

https://savapress.blogspot.com/2022/01/laundry-by-sebnem-sanders.html?fbclid=IwAR2ssByE5jf-b5hJbOp9QGhzYsRI-DGcW2120SDIakgShzDc0evS_623jKc

Thank you very much for reading. 🙂

The Kiss by Andre Kohn

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The Song of Spring by Sebnem E. Sanders

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addiction, daughter, death, Flash Fiction, grief, loss, love, memories, mother, murder, publications, Punk Noir Magazine, regret, relationships, violence

My Story, The Song of Spring is at Punk Noir Magazine. Many thanks to the Editor-in-Chief and author, Paul D. Brazill. 🙂

Punk Noir Magazine

The Song of Spring

Belma

Belma watched over the crowd gathering in the courtyard of the mosque. On the altar, stood a coffin. Draped over its raised head, a muslin scarf with a crocheted edge, and a small wreath of white and purple freesias placed upon it. Her favourite flowers. The men were lined up before the altar and the women, their heads covered, assembled on both sides. Belma scanned their faces. They all had tears in their eyes. She recognized most of them. Friends, relatives, colleagues. Someone must have died, a woman. She saw her mother, her best mate, and her cousins. Her eyes searched the congregation. Where’s Aila? She jabbed a finger at her mother’s shoulder and whispered in her ear.

The sweet aroma of the freesias reminded her of the Song of Spring she used to sing to Aila when she was a little girl, and how…

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Venice

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amreading, amwriting, death, Death in Venice, Flash Fiction, Lido, loss, love, micro-fiction, relationships, Spelk Fiction, Thomas Mann, Venice

via Venice

It’s great to be back at Spelk Fiction, my favourite literary magazine, with a love story. Many thanks to the Editor-in-Chief, Cal Marcius.

Thanks for reading and Happy Easter! 🙂

 

Venice by Claude Monet

Laundry

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affair, birthday, Flash Fiction, flowers, Laundry, lavender, life, love, relationships, shirt, Spelk Fiction

My flash story Laundry is up at Spelk Fiction. Nice Christmas present. 🙂

Spelk

by Sebnem E. Sanders

I smell the freshness of your shirt when I bury my face in your chest. A hint of lavender takes me to an old Italian movie, a scene where people hang their laundry on the terrace. We play hide-and-seek between the big white sheets and rub sweaty hands on the cotton fabric.

Who irons your shirts like this? You never mentioned any one. I never asked. Omission is a sin. Lavender and heather won’t make up for it. Today, I ask the question that’s been roaming in my head for a while.

Your gaze drifts away and you mutter, “The one I took vows with.”

I step back. Clench my hands and shout, “Get the hell out of here and don’t come back.”

You look at me with pleading eyes, and linger, unsure.

“Out, now!” I command.

You hesitate, then turn around. Shoulders slumped, you drift…

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Virginia Creeper

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Flash Fiction, gardening, horticulture, ivy, loneliness, obsession, Parthenocissus quinquefolia, passion, relationships, retirement, vestal virgin, virgin ivy, virginia creeper

Happy to see my story published on Spelk Fiction today.

Spelk

by Sebnem Sanders

Ivy fascinated Ivan. English, with prominent white or yellow-green veins. Boston, with a reddish bronze colour in the spring, and bright, deep green during summer, turning to shades of scarlet, purple or orange in autumn. Yet, the Virginia Creeper was his vestal virgin, with five separate leaves joined at the centre. Just like a human hand, as described in its Latin name, Parthenocissus quinquefolia. Parthenocissus meaning “virgin ivy”. Why virgin, Ivan didn’t know, but he liked the connotation.

Ivan was a loner who never got married or had any lasting relationships. After his retirement, without a partner or close friends, he spent all his time gardening. A lifetime passion and hobby became a way of life for him. Despite his lack of formal education in horticulture, he was a natural with green fingers. The two-storey stone house he had bought in the countryside boasted a greenhouse…

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