The Little Ones

By Jim Latham

The Little Ones collects a wide array of big stories crammed into small spaces. Highlighting the moments on which days, nights, relationships and lives can hinge, these 87 concise stories cover a broad emotional range from humorous to poignant, with stops at hopeful, resigned, and heartwarming. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jim Latham
• Release date: Feb 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215592601

Jim Latham

Jim Latham lives and writes in San Pedro Cholula, Puebla. His stories have appeared in The Drabble, Spillwords, Better Than Starbucks, Eunoia Review, and elsewhere. He publishes free flash fiction every Wednesday on Substack at Jim’s Shorts.

Book preview

DAD 2.0

My daughter says my stories seem fake because my characters don’t use cell phones.

No email either, I tell her. No Insta, TikTok, or Twitter.

She rolls her eyes. Cell phones are mandatory, Dad. Man-da-tory.

Maybe she’s right. She’s seventeen after all. I tell her I think technology peaked with the invention of the electric guitar.

She says, Alexa, I’d like to buy my dad a clue.

Kid, you know I don’t won’t have any of that junk in my house.

Christmas is coming, my darling girl says to me. I’m gonna update you to Dad 2.0.

AN UNSENT POSTCARD

This is a postcard I wrote but didn’t send.

Midnight. Cobblestones and red tile.

Gargoyles, brickwork, and graffiti.

Rain, a lack of witnesses.

Forget about trees and forests.

If you or I fell with no one else around,

Would either of us make a sound?

THE BEGGAR BY THE TACO CART

The beggar huddled near the taco cart. His skin was dirty, his clothes ragged.

When the old lady offered him tacos, he refused. She insisted; he accepted. She passed him a plate with a shaking hand. 

He rose, his skin glowing, his rags radiant. The beggar took the old lady’s hand. Her back straightened, her aches disappeared, her face became smooth. 

She attempted to kneel, but he refused the worship. Eat with me, he said. 

They ate sitting on a bench. He pointed to the setting sun. Look, he said. She did.

When she turned back to the bench, he had vanished.

THE HAUNTED BORDER

Blood drained from Maria’s fingers as she seized the chain-link fence separating her from Cristiano and Ángel. Her two youngest boys, caged in the land of the free.

Cristiano’s skinny, too-still body curled around Ángel’s on the cold concrete floor.

Maria gasped a prayer begging God and the border guard to hold them again. The gray-haired guard shook his head, denying her plea, but his aviators reflected an otherworldly shimmer.

Ghostly arms wrapped around Maria’s legs. Weightless kisses brushed her cheeks.

Don’t cry, Mommy, Ángel whispered as Cristiano’s ethereal thumbs wiped her tears away, We will stay with you—always.

THE BASICS OF THE NEW MACHINES

The basics of the new machines are the same as the old machines.

You fuel them, oil them, care for them with spare parts, paint, and maintenance.

You do that, everything is fine.

For a while.

Then one day you show up and have no job.

The machines? Still working.

WATER COOLER TALK

Dinesh caught on after my third trip to the water cooler. Drink a bit last night?

Enough I sang karaoke with Rip and Sandy. 

Dinesh raised an eyebrow. 

Dock of the Bay.

Good song. 

Rip said I sounded like Bob Dylan.