Fiction
Early Morning Ramblings of a Twenty-Something Girl
A dream of a 1920s quasi-candid shot of Debby Harry, mingling graciously among a grandiose Studio 54 scene. Spray the lens of my life with
Pins
Crying, I recall my father shudders, remembering tall thin men at the foot of the bed apparitions at night, faceless heads like pins, mostly arms,
Home No More
I miss your coffee-covered breath, Early in the morning. It made me hungrier than death For a thrill without a warning. I miss your sweet
A Beggar’s Opera House
She was suspicious that everyone in the room was melting. The man sitting at the coffee table directly in her line of sight was
Kung Fury Will Melt Your Eyeballs and Scorch Your Brain
Have you ever wanted to see a time-travelling lone wolf cop (“I’m a cop. From the future.”) crotch punch Hitler (a.k.a. Kung Führer) in an
Paper Boat
Three walls of the room are made of tin, but on the fourth side a polished floor opens, running like fabric into curtains of lace,