1902
by Regan Puckett
When their silk skins shrivel and wither, the corn stalks are ready to be stripped, so you’re sent into the field with the metal bucket they bathed your brother in before your father stowed it in the barn and buried your brother in a hole in the yard, a barren spot of grass that you like to linger near but never walk over because you worry he might feel, but your sister tramples the grave, stomps on the presents your mother leaves atop it: slices of milkcake (which your brother never tried), knitted cloths (to keep him warm), dandelion heads (wasted wishes), and you’d make your sister stop if you could, but you worry she’ll leave too, and then you’ll be stuck here alone, like you are right now, in the cornfield that feels like a crime scene, where all the pretty green stalks have dried to a dead brown, and the soft chlorophyll silk has rotted and roughed, where you dissect death and pluck out the beautiful remains, yellow spotted ears that listen as well as your father does when your mother cries at night, but you can’t stop listening, watching, as everyone around you falls apart, so now you lift the knife you took from beneath your father’s pillow and you stab the corn to shreds, flail your arms like you’re fighting an army and this is the only way you’ll survive, and all the beautiful corn falls to pieces on the dirt like you will fall to your knees in prayer when your father sees what you’ve done to the harvest, but you let it fall, crumble, sink into the earth, and pray it floats to heaven.
About the Author
Regan Puckett is a writer, barista, and student from Missouri, where she drinks big cups of coffee and writes tiny stories. Her work has been nominated for various awards, including the Pushcart Prize and BASS, and was selected for inclusion in the 2021 Best Microfiction anthology. Find her new stories in trampset, MoonPark Review, and forthcoming in Emerge Literary Journal, and find her tweeting from @raygunnoelle
Our Small Press,
We’re so delighted that 
The books were all posted out to the authors within the pages in the first week of December and now most of them have reached their destinations. The pictures in the collages show their locations — all different parts of the UK, the US, Canada, Australia,New Zealand, Singapore, United Arab Emirates, Ireland, France, Switzerland and elsewhere. I asked people to place their books next to rusty things and we have a wonderful selection here from rusty wheels and ancient machinery, chairs, grills, bird baths, fences, rust coloured cats, sculptures, teapots, hedges garden ornaments and rusty coloured clothes, as well as festive shots and views of mountains and deserts! Thanks so much to everyone for obliging.
We think Restore to Factory Settings the title from a micro by UK writer, J A Keogh, is a great headline for the fifth Bath Flash Fiction Award Anthology. Here, he writes more about the story and about writing flash, which he’s had much success at, after only writing in this form for a year. He was hooked when he read last year’s anthology, 
We’re delighted to share an interview with Johanna Robinson, who won first prize in the October 2020 round, which was judged by Nod Ghosh. The story plus two other listed stories of Johanna’s is included with all the other winners and longlisted writers who agreed to publication in 
It’s that time of year again! As always, we are nominating from our winners in the Bath Flash Award over the year – fictions selected by our judges Santino Prinzi, Mary Jane Holmes and Nod Ghosh. We are allowed to nominate six stories for the Pushcart Prize and five for Best Small Fictions. Many congratulations and best wishes to all!