Divining for Love
She scans the starry sky, scries smoke and mirrors. Cross-examines the cat. Consults soggy tea leaves, pockets rose quartz, throws bones, a fit, visits psychics, stamps her feet. Missed it when love tiptoed by, then died.
The Roast Got Cold
I’m not afraid to die, Pops whispered, reaching across the dinner table for my hand, cloudy eyes boring through mine. The next morning, when we woke up, he didn’t.
Alopecia
Ellen deletes dating apps. She buys scarves, wigs, Edith Sitwell turbans. Shuns social outings and zooms. Drinks. Feeds fish. Dies as hairless as she arrived.
Enlightenment
I climb mountains to his cave, carrying persimmons. The ancient writer sits cross-legged, gazing at the passing clouds. All stories end in death, he pronounces.
Mikki Aronoff writes tiny stories and advocates for animals. Her work has been long-listed for the Wigleaf Top 50 and nominated for Pushcart, Best of the Net, Best Small Fictions, Best American Short Stories, and Best Microfiction. Mikki has stories appearing in Best Microfiction 2024 and forthcoming in Best Small Fictions 2024. She lives in New Mexico and hangs out on Facebook.