Flash Fiction Online #150, March 2026

“The Sacrificials” by Andrew Kozma

“Moss Senses” by Beth Goder

“The Piano Made of Fingers” by Abigail Koury

“Float. Sink. Tread. Swim.” by Shelly Jones (reprint, not reviewed)

“The Oil King” by Bree Wernicke

“Moonmouse” by S.L. Harris (reprint, not reviewed)

“Second Film” by Christopher St. Prince (literary, not reviewed)

Reviewed by David Wesley Hill

The March issue of Flash Fiction Online opens with a strong jolt of horror, “The Sacrificials” by Andrew Kozma, in which the world has been infested by the titular beings—“infected humans … fallen gods … natural disasters made flesh”—who enjoy roaming around and dispensing madness, terror, and death with abandon. Since sacrificials apparently possess unlimited magical power, most people surrender to the inevitable and … par-tay! Not Madsen, though. Her go-to move is to get out of Dodge when sacrificials arrive, only this time her scooter is parked on the other side of town. A disturbing, visceral tale, and … recommended!

In the future milieu of the next March offering, “Moss Senses” by Beth Goder, space travelers have apparently thrown away all commonsense (pun intended) prophylactic protocols and allow themselves to be infected by alien life forms as a matter of course. Why else would Agata and her companions step out of their spaceship without protective suits onto the moss-covered surface of the planet Bryo—permitting themselves to be colonized by the native greenery? As science fiction, the story makes no sense (again, pun intended). I did learn two new words, though—proprioception and interoception—so my time wasn’t entirely wasted. Look them up yourself. They’re interesting words to know.

Next up, creepy in a good way, is “The Piano Made of Fingers” by Abigail Koury, in which Ms. Kaplan purchases a used piano for the school music club. Young Dahlia has an affinity for the titular instrument, and uses “her own lotion to rejuvenate the keys.” Unfortunately, after practicing studiously for the school recital, Dahlia learns her expertise has a hidden cost in this disturbing parable about the dark underbelly of art.

Finally, we come to “The Oil King” by Bree Wernicke, in which Opal Gulch is a decaying place “this side of nowhere.” Ellalee Gather has been waiting twenty years for the return of her son, Malcolm, who had gone out into the world to “strike gold and come back a king.” Instead, horror after horror creep from the desert and take over the town, followed by the “horror-king” himself, as “petroleum, oceanfuls of it, heaved down the slopes and into Opal Gulch.” Has Malcolm kept his promise? After all, isn’t oil … black gold? Figure it out yourself.