Politically Cosmopolitan

First published in Ariel Chart.

One of the most dispiriting dilemmas I face occurs when I’m honored with an invitation to a fashionable cocktail party somewhere in the city. Should I accept a request to attend this charming affair?

Make no mistake about this weighty conundrum, I want to go. And circulate with friends and acquaintances, and exchange the latest tidbits making the rounds. But…

Read the rest here.


First published in Literary Heist.

In the nook where they sat in the crowded bar, she bent forward so he could hear her better, her eyes wide, her arms crossed, her face feigning remorse. “I never planned it this way, BretIt just happened, that’s all,” she said. “None of this was ever my intent.”

“Right,” he said.

“Please don’t blame me. He just walked into my life and suddenly we clicked. I really didn’t anticipate any of this,” she said.

“Uh huh,” he said looking around the room as if he were more interested in the crowd than in what she had to say. She took a sip of her drink and tried again. “I’d hoped we could remember our time together with fondness. You must admit we did have fun together, didn’t we?” she said….

Read the rest here.

Fred Miller’s Publications


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Fred’s first short story, The Wedding, was published in 2003 in Puckerbrush Review, a print publication edited by the New England Poet Laureate Constance Hunting. Other stories by Fred have appeared in these publications: The Houston Literary Review, The Front Porch Review, Skive Magazine (Australia), Corner Club Press, Writing Raw, Scarlett Rosebud, Troubadour 21, Dew On The Kutzu-a Southern Ezine, Static Movement, Eunoia Review (Singapore), Roar & Thunder (Australia), Kaleidoscope, Bartleby Snopes, The Cynic Online, Muscadine Lines: A Southern Journal, Oxford Today, Connotation Press: An Online Artifact, Bewildering Stories, The Literary Yard (India), Fiction on the Web (UK) DuLugstSoSchon (Germany), Eskimo Pie, Deep South Review, Fabula Argentea, The Fable Online (UAE), Through The Gaps, The Linnet’s Wings (Ire.), Jellyfish Review (Indonesia), Donut Factory, Down In The Dirt, Potluck, Dime Show Review, TreeHouse Arts, AWS (Can), The Flash Fiction Press, Scarlet Leaf Review, The Charles Charter, Corvus Review, 50-Word Stories, Storgy, CommuterLit (Canada), The Wagon Magazine (India), Quail Bell Magazine, Literary Heist (Canada), Ariel Chart (Australia), and Literally Stories (UK).
All of Fred’s stories are edited by

Muffy Harman


First published in Quail Bell.

With the luck of the Irish, I’d landed a plum of a job in the fanciest hotel on the hill, me a mere twelve-year-old in a crisp, bright uniform with a pill box hat the color of my freckles and hair, the newest message boy scrounging tips for cables and notes delivered promptly to various guests of this post establishment. Donovan, that’s me, fast and alert and on the spot with a smile and an itch to succeed at whatever came my way….

Read the rest here.

The Party

Previously published in The Wagon Magazine.

 “Sybil, darling, it’s Allison, how are you, my dear?”

“Just fine, Allison,” I say, holding one of the girls in my arms, the receiver clutched between my cheek and shoulder. “And you?”

“Splendid, couldn’t be better. Say, I’m having a few friends over on the tenth for cocktails around eight and I’d love for you to join us, that is if you’re free that night,” she says. She knows that I am. Where would the hell else I am?….

Read the rest here.

Thursday: My New Home

First published in CommuterLit.

CHRISTMAS IS the best. Ask any six-year-old. Filled with dreams and treats every kid craves, it’s a wonder it’s limited to a single appearance a year. Dad assures me that if this holiday came more often, the excitement would fade. I don’t want to believe it, but he’s my dad, and dads are never wrong….

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The Promise

First appeared in Storgy.

His gaze is seared in my memory, his last words locked into my soul. Following a lifetime of respect and local acclaim, he’d entrusted a mere twelve-year-old, with little knowledge of life’s vicissitudes and challenges, to carry out his final wishes. Yet the story I wish to share blossomed the day I turned four, the candles reflecting on my cheeks as I peered into his broad smile and realized he encompassed all that I’d hoped I could become some day….

Read the rest here.