Sarah’s so-called boyfriend was Joe. Not much of a man, or young adult as they pigeon-hole them now. It was easy to get him drunk since there’s not much else to do in this forgotten part of Connecticut except shoot deer or shoot pool.
Tag Archives: genre fiction
Fetus in Fetu by A.C. Glasier
Four days ago, when you stumbled out drunk from the nightclub, you stopped short and felt a painful stirring deep in your belly. Continue reading Fetus in Fetu by A.C. Glasier
Dolbots in Cosplay By Clara Brown
Her skin is pale with a hint of blue, like a porcelain doll crafted by a mortician’s hand. Crystalline-like eyes sit in sockets too large for her pixie-like skull and when she brings the poison apple to her lips for dramatic effect, she looks human. But she’s not. She’s a Dolbot: G-43 model, the most realistic android in production. For me, they aren’t hard to spot. I build them for a living.
Forbidden Island By Dr. Mel Waldman
In the wasteland of Brooklyn, New York, I, Dan T. Matthews, sit on my tiny terrace clutching an old hardcover copy of Carlos Castaneda’s The Teachings of Don Juan. On this dog day afternoon in August, I devour strawberry shortcake, White Russians, the designer drug XES, and Carlos’s hallucinogenic visions. Continue reading Forbidden Island By Dr. Mel Waldman
In Green by Sam Cutter
On May 31st, the first plant entered the building.
“It’s just going to die. You know that right?” Martin Lampitt said to his father whose infirm hands shook as he tucked a handkerchief into the pocket of his jeans.
Jolly Holiday by Melanie Browne
When Carolyn first wrote her bucket list, she was soaking in the tub after getting all the kids tucked into bed. Her oldest had a Spanish test and her youngest was complaining of a headache. She had Continue reading Jolly Holiday by Melanie Browne
A New Man By Matthew Brockmeyer
It was a splendid summer afternoon, the sky a deep, gleaming blue and the air filled with the songs of chirping sparrows as Bartholomew Wethers strolled through the bustling streets of Old Town Eureka, a bundle of fresh cut flowers for his wife clutched in Continue reading A New Man By Matthew Brockmeyer
Headshots By Dave Jaggers
“John, its Davey. I got the envelope. Yeah, the fucker didn’t even try to hide it. It was on the table under an Oprah magazine, I shit you not. Yeah man, I’ll be there in ten.”
The Twilit World By David Massengill
The elderly taxi driver drops me off at a chain link fence blocking the main drive of the University of Hollinsbridge. “You sure you want to do this, lad?”
The Chin By B.R. Stateham
A painted rock.
A rock about the size of a small child’s open palm. Painted an odd, curiously light reflective smoky gray hue. One side of it was curved slightly. The curve gentle, suggesting that it would fit perfectly in the palm of a small hand. Like some kind of Neolithic hand tool; maybe a tool used to scrape the flesh off an animal hide. Or maybe some kind of stone hammer.
Continue reading The Chin By B.R. Stateham
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