With such excitement and in its truest form, thank you, Kathy Fish, for being our Guest Selecting Editor. Kathy is the author of multiple literary collections, including the hypnotizing opus of flash fiction—Wild Life. Her accolades and praises are boundless, and the commitment she makes to the world of words is a treasure, sincerely. She provides comfort, inspiration, insight, and wisdom to us all, and her guidance serves as a valuable source for the literary community and beyond. She is the herald of very short fictions—of literature—of the written form, but it's not only that—she's also the paragon of humanity. Thank you, Kathy—for all of this—for being here for all of us.

A million times over—over and over and over—with sincerity, an immense gratitude to the Wigleaf Top 50 team who gave so much of their time and patience and thought and care into this lovely endeavor. Their dedication is pure in its pursuit for the passion of very short fictions, its writers, and its journals and editors. It is simply all for the love of reading—the medium which keeps our imagination hovering above our heads.

Thank you to our Associate Editors Michelle Dove, Alice Maglio, DW McKinney, and Anne Weisgerber, and thank you to our Readers Sudha Balagopal, Sacha Bissonnette, Casey Hannan, DJ Hills, Sydney Kim, Sean Lovelace, Veronica Montes, and Colleen Rothman.

None of this would exist without the Wigleaf Editor, Scott Garson, who has provided this space to celebrate and marvel very short fictions. Thank you for giving us the opportunity to float away, Scott.

So if you look just beyond the river—or rather—maybe venture across the lands a million miles away or just around the corner—oh, no, maybe if you look up toward the stars, a star, and perhaps if you happen upon a world or two or if you find a plate tucked away in the dirt of the earth or if you watch for the owl or listen to the song of the rain—you know—I don't know—if you look and if you just look, you'll find a palette of us. You'll find yourself there—you'll find ourselves there. I'm unsure if it's a mirror or if it's us—our beings, but there we are—in between the words, raising our hands just to say hi. An arm around the shoulder—a tug of a finger—we are here and we are there—it's as if we are there and we are here. I don't know. Who knows? All that I know is that in each and every word there is a calling, and there we are—with our mouths open. So let us journey into that which beckons—you and you and you and us and you. Let us travel blindly into a shine that creates such a sun.

Love.

Onward we go.

—-shome dasgupta