My Flash Fiction Story "What You Don't Know" Featured in "SPREAD Zine"

I've been publishing in the small press for over 34 years. Back then there was no internet. All literary magazines were printed on paper. I loved them all, but especially the small press lit mags. They were always so creatively produced!

SPREAD Zine out of Seattle, WA, is no exception. So I was thrilled when my flash fiction story WHAT YOU DON'T KNOW appeared in the February 2022 issue of SPREAD. 

Since it is a print publication, there is no link to send you to for the story. So here it is for your reading pleasure. Enjoy!

WHAT YOU DON’T KNOW

“Hail Mary, full of grace,” she whispers in prayer, “the Lord is with thee.” Apples, oranges, bananas, pears. Donna stops in front of a basket filled with Bartlett pears. She selects a few with enough bruising to cause most shoppers to pass them by, but perfect for the fruit salad she makes every morning for breakfast. “Blessed art thou among women,” Donna continues, pulling a plastic bag from the roll next to the bananas. She loves to pray the rosary, especially when she’s grocery shopping. It keeps her mind on what’s important, on the present moment. Not on the past. She arranges the pears in the plastic bag and ties a knot at the top. But when she turns to leave, there’s a man standing next to her. He’s frowning at a basket of Red Delicious apples. And he looks just like her ex-husband, only younger. The same shaggy blonde hair. The same athletic build. The same piercing blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones. Model handsome. Too handsome. “Blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus,” she prays. Her ex-husband was like that. Model handsome. Too handsome for his own good. She stares at the man for a minute, remembering the afternoon she came home early from work to find her ex in bed with the neighbor’s sixteen-year-old daughter. Remembering the night she caught him and his secretary in Room 306 at the Claremont Hotel. He didn’t know the desk clerk at the Claremont was one of Donna’s best friends. He didn’t know she called Donna the minute she saw them kissing in the parking lot. And he didn’t know they’d use the master key to burst into his room. “Holy Mary, Mother of God,” Donna prays. Still frowning, the man pulls a plastic bag from the roll. “I know nothing about these, do you?” he asks, selecting one of the apples. Donna laughs. “Be careful,” she says. “Sometimes it’s what you don’t know that gets you in the end.”