See, people, here’s the thing about Crowley. He was racist and sexist and sure hated the Jews. Real controversial stuff, sure, but you know what, he was actually in the dead center of polite opinion when it came to the Negroes and the swarthies and money-grubbing kikes and all those other lovely stereotypes.
Tag Archives: Fiction
SHORT FICTION: These Days
July 13, 2008 – 12:07 am
April is pure rot. Most days I don’t drag myself out of bed, and when I do? Posters with body parts are wheat-pasted up and down our block. Radio stations are mid-theory about why women get the wild, men get the crack, and kids get the numb, when the signal just bleeds out into howls. No one works at the grocery store anymore, and you can take what you want, but all that is left is unlabeled canned goods.
Short Fiction: To Know How to See
June 28, 2008 – 2:17 pm
Something was wrong with Lee’s face. A small comet passed the Ambrosia’s cockpit window, and Sean Corbett saw its streaking tail reflect off the man’s skin, shimmering across his cheek and forehead, across the bridge of his nose, as if they were the sculpted features of a wax mask instead of true flesh.
Short Fiction: Pretty Little Thing
May 21, 2008 – 1:03 pm
She was a pretty little thing, lithe, dark. She swung her hair just so, without a care in the world, not a hint of tension to betray the danger of the situation, a young girl taking the metro at night, alone.
Short Fiction: Light Like Knives Dragged Across the Skin
April 27, 2008 – 3:34 pm
When Saw slapped down his last card we knew that things were going to change.
Short Fiction: A Handful of Pearls
March 7, 2008 – 10:21 pm
Yan closed his eyes. The air pulsed against his skin, making his head throb. Steady, he told himself. It was the heat, the tent’s closeness, the excitement of landing. That was all. Nothing to worry about.
Short Fiction: Twelve-A
February 1, 2008 – 1:00 am
Though their bodies were naked, their minds empty, the fearful, half-mad faces that followed Marie from behind the bars were humanity’s hope.
Short Fiction: Flash of Light
February 1, 2008 – 12:59 am
“Daddy has a bad headache, okay? The army doctors told Mommy it’s because he’s been away from his family for so long.” He felt Michelle nod in his arms. “Mommy wants us to play ‘hide and go seek’ until he’s not mad anymore.”
Short Fiction: The Dead Man and the Berserk
January 1, 2008 – 1:05 am
Two men hit Bazard after 1:00 a.m. that the mood and the music don’t touch. They’re not here for either. They are stoics in a cult of hedonists, still buoys in an angry sea.
Short Fiction: Post Apocalypse
January 1, 2008 – 1:00 am
The letter came on Tuesday marked “Post Apocalypse.”
Short Fiction: Under the Dryer
December 1, 2007 – 1:05 am
I tried to warn them, but the humans wouldn’t listen and the cats just taunted me.
Fiction: Not Flesh Nor Feathers - Chapter 1
December 1, 2007 – 1:00 am
The Tennessee River has swollen again, and nothing stops it.
Short Fiction: Happy Thoughts
November 24, 2007 – 12:53 pm
Sorscha had never known her father’s true motivation behind poisoning his children. Passion for Rasputin, Napoleon and Hitler? Paranoia-driven sense of preservation or completely sadistic experiment? Whatever his reasons, her immunity to arsenic always made for an interesting topic of conversation at dinner parties.
Short Fiction: In the Shadows of Meido
October 25, 2007 – 12:00 pm
History recorded that in the year 1703, in the town of Kodaiji, Japan, Tojiro Okami–commander of the Otoyo han guard–slaughtered the han heir, in a heinous act of treason. What do you want me to tell you about Tojiro Okami? Well, he was damn stubborn. A man destined to have many songs written about his deeds, to have pretty girls swoon at tales spun by those who claimed to have known him, not to have his name whispered by mothers to scare their children to bed. I don’t remember how I came into his acquaintance, I don’t remember a lot from those days. Many men dismissed me as a fool drunk; it helped them sleep better at night. I was many things: overindulgent eater, occasional gambler, priest, but I was not fool drunk. I was a damn fine drunk. That dry coarse itch at the back of my mind still haunts me, especially when I recall the events that led to Tojiro’s tragic downfall.
Short Fiction: Last Respects
September 2, 2007 – 9:59 am
A scream rang out from downstairs. I smiled when I heard applause, my grandchildren now being praised by their mother as the scream faded to a whimper and the giggles were replaced by slurping sounds.
Short Fiction: All the Wonder in the World
September 1, 2007 – 1:18 pm
It began, the way these things usually do, with a rain of frogs.
Short Fiction: A Darker Shade of Green
September 1, 2007 – 12:46 pm
“Go Green,” they said. “Save the Earth!” Now, watching the fire, I wonder, who is going to save me?
Short Fiction: Darkness and the Light
July 24, 2007 – 12:42 pm
Jonathan stared into the swirling depths of his mug and held his silence. It was the truth. He’d not seen The Loch since his boyhood days, when he’d played beside the Loch, young and carefree, never questioning why he couldn’t sit on the stones and watch the soft slap of the waves after the sun had gone down. He’d left with his mother at the age of eight and never looked back. Not during the waking hours.
Short Fiction: Foiled
June 24, 2007 – 12:53 pm
The day she had asked her father what the words meant, he had slapped her. She had overheard the Aunts, she admitted. He went very still after that, and simply told her to never say them again. The words were a curse: May each day you live after this be worse than the one before.