Amy’s Face

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This is a character study of a dark relationship between a photographer and his former muse. They meet again years after their collaboration brought them both fame. Published by Siren’s Muse, it appears in their 2020 Halloween issue. Download the PDF to find dozens of speculative stories and poems. Amy’s Face is on page 14.


Why Whales Beach Themselves

If more people are born than die, how are souls reincarnated? This flash fiction tells all. First published in January 2020 by Grey Sparrow Journal.

Why Whales Beach Themselves

by DL Shirey

And God said to Phelan, “You know the rules. Every human baby must include a resurrected soul.”

What else could Phelan do except nod in response; her long, platinum curls bobbing as if confident the problem would be solved. As Angel-In-Charge of reincarnation it was her job. Not to mention, the higher echelons of divinity had too many perks for Phelan to admit that quality control had slipped in recent centuries. So many soulless newborns had snuck through already, and the world was beginning to feel the affects from their lack of empathy, forgiveness and cooperation.

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Stone Man & Statue Boy

This is a story of two parks in Portland, Oregon. The physical description is that of Mt. Tabor, an extinct volcano within walking distance of my house. There is a statue in this park, erected in 1933. The name of the other park escapes me. At the time I was writing this story, local news was reporting about a change to the name of this second park; its previous designation celebrated a person whose past was tainted by racism. Oregon has a history—to be polite—of not being particularly welcoming to minorities. The renaming of this park was an effort to atone.

As I said, there is a statue at the top of Mt. Tabor Park, of a newspaperman pointing west. He is alone. In the story the statue is of a man and a boy. I invented Statue Boy to add an element of surrealism and to have another character to interact with the protagonist. Fleas on the Dog published my story as a PDF download.



This story was prompted by my own neglect and/or stupidity. On my first night vacationing in Scotland, I looked the wrong direction (the right way in America), saw no cars and stepped into the street. Nothing happened, but when I looked the other way, a big double decker was halfway up the block. I stepped back before the driver could honk his horn.

The “what if” became H__NGS, published in Potato Soup Journal.


5 Years Ago

happy-5-anniv@300tallThis month marks the 5th anniversary of two published stories. Deep Pools of Tepid Remorse was my first ever published story. It tells the tale of a muralist and a journalist and how street art brought them together. g.lentz follows an eccentric-looking woman and a man who she fascinates. Both stories were great motivators as each was accepted for publication after only a couple submissions. They also showed me that while writing is a solo effort, revisions need the feedback of other writers. I had recently joined a writers group and members’ feedback had helped make these stories much better.


The One That Damned Me

Damn Me
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After Dinner Conversation is a unique magazine. Not only do they publish excellent short stories, acceptance is predicated on the premise that what you read is worthy of discussion. “The One That Damned Me” is about a man wrongly accused of a crime. The editors then follow up with philosophical or ethical questions for further conversation. All six stories in the July issue are well written as are topics posed afterwards. There are also free downloads for this issue (pdf, ePub, mobi), but I urge you to buy a subscription. It’s well worth it.

Published, Shorties


In January, 2020, A Story in 100 Words published my Drabble. (That’s a story of exactly one hundred words, folks.) It can be quite challenging to craft a beginning, middle and end into extremely short prose. At the time, I was struggling mightily with another microfiction piece and my frustration inspired me to write this:


by DL Shirey

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The crumpled notebook paper can’t be hurt, no matter how hard it’s thrown. An anemic crackle sounds at impact, a lazy, pointless attempt to uncurl is its sole achievement. The lopsided wad sits atop the unburning end of a Duraflame log. Mercifully, black char ashes the paper’s edge, further loosening the ball until gravity pulls it down to hearth. Still misshapened, I see blue ink, evidence of the second worst opening line in the history of writing. The winner is in my fist, ready to toss to the flames. It’s the only way to bring fire to my words today.



The Short List

smallIf a bright spot can be found in these days of pandemic and seclusion, it’s that many more new journals have come to our attention. Since March, The Short List has featured 112 new inclusions, places where writers of short prose can submit their stuff. If you’re anything like us, these past few months have been a boon to writing. Now, it’s time to start submitting.

Keep checking back for opportunities to publish your short stories and flash fiction. And if you haven’t already, please follow us on Twitter for notifications about new journals.