Jennifer Hill-Flores

“The Rising” (Short Story)

Jennifer Hill-Flores — Sat, 03 Jan 2026 08:35:25 +0000

I’m honored that Acentos Review recently published this short story in their November issue.

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The women of Dorno had choices.

Sweet fruit or sugared bread in the morning. Blue cotton threads for the skyscape embroidery on their skirts told the legend of the ghost people descending to create their games and mold the people out of clay, rocks, animal sinew, and something like magnetism, but not that. Or the women could choose orange cotton threads to embroider of the tale of how a fiery ball swept the land like a destructive sun. It cleansed all it touched and forced the most vigorous seeds to push through the ash and create a new world. The stories were unclear, adapted, and voiced by the generations through their pains and triumphs.

Read the whole story…

“Return” (Poem)

Jennifer Hill-Flores — Wed, 27 Aug 2025 18:22:26 +0000

Read the full poem here…

“White Birds Near Cold Water” (Poem)

Jennifer Hill-Flores — Tue, 06 May 2025 01:23:54 +0000

The bulb of the belly slips in,

anchored by spindly legs,

straight as swords.

The cold water cracks,

shots in the dark, an array of pushpins

teasing out fear and mourning and

the quiet suffocation.

Read the full poem at the Texas Poetry Assignment / TPA Quarterly (May 4, 2025)

“Death in the Country” (Poem)

Jennifer Hill-Flores — Fri, 20 Dec 2024 12:32:00 +0000

This poem first appeared in the November 2021 issue of Funicular Magazine.

“Winter” (Short Story)

Jennifer Hill-Flores — Mon, 16 Dec 2024 13:43:00 +0000

MY MOTHER SAYS MY EYES WILL NEVER BE THE SAME. How can they be? The flash of the headlights would be the last thing I’d see in maybe… forever? I think of my name now as sort of a prophecy. Winter. I am not a cat or a dog or a white guinea pig or a favorite type of cookie. Winter. My other sisters are Spring, Summer— and Courtney. Courtney was from my mother’s first marriage. She had a hysterectomy before she could have a Fall. Now, in Winter, my car is t-boned by a Prime Amazon truck. No one was killed. But the truck went up in flames, and some Christmases were ruined. Oh well.

Read the full piece here…

This story first appeared on Bridge Eight in Aug. 2021.

“Storm” (Poem)

Jennifer Hill-Flores — Tue, 10 Sep 2024 20:30:41 +0000

Thanks to The Closed Eye Open for publishing my poem “Storm.”

“New” (Poem)

Jennifer Hill-Flores — Tue, 10 Sep 2024 19:53:02 +0000

I’d like to thank Black Fox Literary Magazine for publishing my poem, “New,” in its 10th-anniversary issue.

“Dreaming of Loch Ness” (Poem)

Jennifer Hill-Flores — Tue, 10 Sep 2024 19:41:58 +0000

Thanks to Black Fox Literary Magazine for publishing my poem, “Dreaming of Loch Ness” in their 10th Anniversary issue.

“Your Heart is Not a Metaphor” (Poem)

Jennifer Hill-Flores — Sat, 02 Mar 2024 04:55:00 +0000

Thanks to Beyond Words Literary Magazine for publishing “Your Heart is Not a Metaphor” in their March 2024 issue. I’ve put a hold on submitting to publications for a few months due to a novel I’m working on. In the meantime, I hope this resonates with anyone experiencing a harrowing trip to the hospital with a loved one.

“The Octopus Swims at Midnight” (Flash Fiction)

Jennifer Hill-Flores — Sat, 09 Sep 2023 00:49:56 +0000

I’m so honored that this piece was featured in Flash Fiction Magazine. I’ve enjoyed this publication for a long time!

Read the full piece here …