by Lynn Kozlowski

My wife is dreaming about her father. He leans over from his chair to watch her shift and see how she has grown. He has a manly hand. It shuttles his cigarette from his knee to his face. When there is no moonlight, there is the pulse of his cigarette.

Lynn Kozlowski has published in 50-Word Stories, Everyday Fiction, The Dribble Drabble Review, Bright Flash Literary Review, Friday Flash Fiction, The Zodiac Review, The Quarterly, The Malahat Review, and failbetter.com. He has a volume of short pieces, Historical Markers (Ravenna Press). He is based in New York State, USA, but spends a great deal of time in Ontario, Canada.