The Journal of Compressed Creative Arts is a non-profit publisher of compressed creative arts, such as micro fiction, flash fiction, prose poetry, compressed poetry & visual arts, and whatever other forms compression might take. Matter pays authors $50 for their accepted pieces. We publish weekly bursts of compression & decompression and make as many varied word-plays on matter as we can. We also blog here and at FlashFiction.Net.

CNF: She Could Leave Herself Behind if She Just Ran Fast Enough

by Meghan Phillips

Find me on the floor in the hallway that runs between the living room and the kitchen. (more…)

To the dead bat my mother handed me:

Microsoft Word - Michael_Alessi-To_the_dead_bat_my_mother_handed

         —by Michael Alessi

Michael Alessi has work published or forthcoming in The Pinch, decomP, Mid-American Review, NANO Fiction, New Delta Review, and elsewhere. Among other honors, he is the recipient of the Ryan R. Gibbs Award for Short Fiction, an Academy of American Poets Prize, and the 2016 Pinch Literary Award for Fiction. He holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Old Dominion University. Raised in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, he lives in Chicago.

What surprising, fascinating stuff can you tell us about the origin, drafting, and/or final version of “To the dead bat my mother handed me”?

    Growing up in Lexington, we lived in an old house. In the summers we threw open the windows to keep cool, which inevitably brought in bats, who loved to hide in the drapes. It was my mother’s routine to stun them with a broom, scoop them up on a paper plate, and leave them on the back porch overnight to fly away. I always got up early after a bat attack to check if the plate was empty or not. I didn’t want my mother to find the dead ones. I hid the little bodies behind the neighbor’s hedge so she wouldn’t know she killed them.

At last a spray of gladioli

in a glass vase,
the big yellow
doll house raided


by Brent Fisk

How it happens: Somebody leaves without saying goodbye. (more…)

Big Daddy Dreaming

by John Minichillo

Big Daddy’s shoulders were less broad than his hips, (more…)