Author Archives: Lucy Zhang

2 Micros in National Flash Fiction Day NZ’s Micro Madness Competition

It’s the first time I’m celebrating National Flash Fiction Day (and frankly, the first time I learned such a thing existed). I’m thrilled to have two micros make it to the top 22 in National Flash Fiction Day New Zealand’s Micro Madness 2020 competition.

Check out the two pieces, Flower Girl (no-themed) and Can’t see the rainbow from here (lockdown-themed): https://nationalflash.org/micro-madness-2020/

Flash fiction: “Diets” in Okay Donkey, “The Apple Orchard Remains” in Bandit Fiction

My flash “Diets” is out in Okay Donkey! Taking on a more experimental list form (at least, relative to my past work), this piece skirts the line between fiction and non fiction for me. Enjoy 😋

Read it here: https://okaydonkeymag.com/2020/04/03/diets-by-lucy-zhang/

 

I also have a piece, “The Apple Orchard Remains” out in Bandit Fiction. A product of my love for apples, if you will.

Read it here: https://banditfiction.com/2020/04/03/the-apple-orchard-remains-by-lucy-zhang/

 

How do I get unlost on my own by Lucy Zhang

I’ve got a piece out about ducks in Jellyfish Review! 🦆

jellyfishreview's avatarJellyfish Review

How do I get unlost on my own

The bottom of the pond is covered by a blend of tan, ocher, brown, and grey stones, hauled in by teams with hoses and buckets and bright yellow hard hats and orange vests. Painstakingly timed waves ripple from the center, generated by a motor and a pump somewhere out of sight. Not too loud. Not too quiet. A consistent undulation, the perfect backdrop for taking in shallow breaths after a wine glass-shattering argument. At the pond’s edges, water drains down to the source of the ripples, a pump forcing movement until seven pm every day – it is the same water over and over again. Had the pond been less shallow, had it been as deep as the ocean, there might have been room for a Loch Ness monster or a man-eating clown. But Mother Duck paddles to the side and leaps…

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An Uninspired Kidnapping ~ fiction by Lucy Zhang

Kevin Brennan's avatarThe Disappointed Housewife

When I was kidnapped, I wore a denim jean jacket with a front button placket, point collar and two button-flap chest pockets—one for my phone, the other for a twenty-dollar bill. I figured one day the twenty dollars would be a useful bribe, or if I was feeling generous, a donation to the street musicians in the city. But twenty dollars wouldn’t save my life, nor would my inability to say no to anything or my ability to depersonalize from my body. My gaze was always trained elsewhere, at the clock tower or the German bakery or the smoke emitted from the factories up ahead.

I watched my body collapse into a leather suitcase. Humans don’t fit the rectangular form factor. No matter how condensed and space-efficient a fetal position can get, heads jut out and feet don’t fold inward. So you hack them off. My head fit snugly in…

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