Pure Slush

flash ... without the wank

a taste of 'Summer'

Summer Pure Slush Vol. 12 is here!

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Summer Pure Slush Vol. 12

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... 70 writers dip into summer ...


There was no breeze to cool the heat; the things that had bound us together loosened like frayed laces and slipped away. / from Heat by Penn Stewart

All summer, they’d head to the cliffs, but usually on Saturdays, when I was often stuck working at McDs. / from Diving Through the Golden Arches by S. L. Kerns

“Get in,” she says. She holds a learner’s permit in her hand. I hope it’s hers. / from A Khan is Crowned in Atlantic City by Embe Charpentier

So after we had dispelled with the usual talk, I did mention the weather. The heat was coming out of my ears and hitting the dupatta wrapped around my face and neck. / from Loving It Hot and Sweaty by Abha Iyengar

And wasn’t it lovely to lie in a hammock under water that was tied to the back of a houseboat on houseboat row. / from Summer’s End by Sally Reno

Wouldn’t it be frustrating if snail thoughts were way ahead of snail athletics? / from Rain Shower by Allan J. Wills

I watch his palm, but it’s only a handshake he wants, not money. There’s a moment between us where neither of us is damaged and both of us are whole. / from Summer by Stephen V. Ramey

I flop down, lean back against the maple’s rough trunk, and drink in my destination. / from The Point by Cynthia Leslie-Bole

… there was only one martial-arts expert in the world who could possibly “defeat the pig-tailed Manchurian villain who uses the braid of his hair as a lethal weapon of total destruction.” / from Gun Wounds Again? by Michael Coolen

He searches for his work boots, necessary even for car rides to get ice cream in November. / from Running by Jenny Lapekas

She had picked a handful of daisies and held them out to her mother. “For you.” / from Meadow Girl by Beate Sigriddaughter

They suspect arson, or it could have been a faulty powerline. / In either case the boys will need to wait until it’s quite safe … / from Letter to N: This Summer by Edward Reilly

… they won’t let go when you get to the other side. That’s what I always explained to my wife Hildy, but she’s dead now so that’s not a good example. / from There’s a Croc in Your Backyard by Walter Giersbach

But in the end I said nothing, just pictured that beer sweat still wet on her chest and glistening in the summer sun as we drove out onto the highway. / from Remembering by Jessica Clements

And that was when I saw the blotches on the underside of her arms, blue-black and sticky. Just as she lifted her arms to scratch her head. / from Promising by Matt Potter

When the company went bankrupt I was sure I’d have another job within a month or two. Maybe it would even be closer to home, with a nicer lunchroom. / from Aptitude by Linda Ferguson

He knew this could be a new beginning if he chose it to be. He’d promised himself that he could write something true and sincere if he gave himself time. / from Mr. Lonely Hearts by Gay Degani

No, wait… that was Mimi’s ass that Hogan bit, not Summer’s. Don’t know why I’m talking about that if it didn’t have anything to do with Summer. / from In the Beginning, Good Always Overpowered Taxidermied Chipmunks and Free Frosting Wednesdays at Applebee’s by David S. Atkinson

Sometimes, my mom and I would have to “borrow” money from my brother’s bank. We’d wait until my brother was outside and wouldn’t be able to hear the alarm. / from Monopoly, My Brother and Money by Martha Rand

We shared our tuna sandwich on a French roll sitting outside in the warm July afternoon sun on wooden tables, but I could barely eat. / from Avocado Sandwiches on a July Afternoon by Joanne Jagoda

She’s standing half in sunlight, half in the shade of the old kenepa tree. She can’t suspect; her cup-runneth-over state keeps her insulated. / from Summer Love by Guilie Castillo Oriard

My dad and Uncle Joel drink with their high school buddies. Grandpa loves every second of telling them they’re full of shit. / from Jack Daniels by Sara Petersen

“You’re not going to kill anyone,” I said, though I wasn’t completely sure. “Besides you’re only thirteen.” / from 1967 by Len Kuntz

Holding a pole for balance, he wore a bowler and flared trousers, like Charlie Chaplin. Several automobiles passed underneath, indifferent to the aerial show. / from Man of a Wire by Paul B. Cohen

I slowed and stopped when I saw their first baseman’s face. A tall, thick-waisted Hispanic kid, he looked like he was about to vomit. / from Summer Highland Falls by Michael Webb

My ears are used to the city sounds of sirens, cars, people, and the hectic can’t quite adjust to the silence here. / from Approaching 40 by Chris Gillies

People expected him to glide from success to success. Only his crinkled, dark hair wouldn’t quite bend to his will, despite the wax. / from Last Summer by Alex Reece Abbott

Standing in line on broiling asphalt, hopping from one foot to the other, my prize of a glistening, cold snow cone with red cherry and green lime syrup was worth it. / from Bare Feet by Cynthia Hoffman

My father is shriveling, has lost fifty pounds, and the doctors can’t tell us what’s wrong. / from Memories of an Unknown Summer by Kristina England

They’re called defrosters. They do the work for you: that is, they defrost your fucking windshield. They melt the ice, the snow, all that shit. / from Scrape by Jon Dietrick

 

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