“Hating Melissa Gruber” by Jenean McBrearty

Rudolpho Mantuas’ paintings were revealing. From four feet away, they were swirls and amalgamations, interludes of blank space punctuated by rat-a-tat swathes of color. From twenty feet, the chaos reformed into coherence. What was once random crystalized into dogma. How? Critics pondered the inexplicable. “The key,” Bernie Curtis asserted, “is to suppress expectation.” Rival critic … Continue reading “Hating Melissa Gruber” by Jenean McBrearty

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“Watcher” by Robert Pope

My acquaintances think Harris as unpleasant to look at as he is uncomfortable to speak with. I have gotten used to the stiffness of face and neck, as well as the odd speech lacking variety and modulation. Perhaps his arms hang too much when he walks, but no one can deny his erectness of stature … Continue reading “Watcher” by Robert Pope

“Mosquito and the Fly” by Daniel Uncapher

Mosquito was born yesterday. The bug doctor knew immediately that something was wrong with him, but Mother Mosquito refused to let them run any tests on her baby, who by all outward appearances was the picture of health. But time passes in an instant in the eyes of a mother, and it wasn’t long until … Continue reading “Mosquito and the Fly” by Daniel Uncapher

“Ubik” by Doug Hawley

Excerpts from the Lake Oswego Weekly Express: From the Garden Column October 3, 2017 – Jersey Wilkins discovered a very strange plant in her yard last week. The plant, which vaguely resembles wheat stalks with corn kernels, has grown to about a three feet high all over her back yard. None of the members of … Continue reading “Ubik” by Doug Hawley

“Sundays at the Zoo” by Steven Carr

With her white paper parasol with pink cherry blossoms printed on it raised it above her head, Cybill walked past the line of those standing at the ticket booth and pushed her way through the revolving metal bars and entered the zoo. Going past the swans sitting in the dark gray water of the pond … Continue reading “Sundays at the Zoo” by Steven Carr

“Sola, Sola, Sola” by Kathryn Ross

Dev leaned against the tree at his back and took a drag off his cigarette. He coughed and spat on the ground, then inhaled deep, letting the smoke’s fingers reach down to the bottom of his lungs. He exhaled and coughed again, so hard that he retched. He looked at the cigarette burning between his … Continue reading “Sola, Sola, Sola” by Kathryn Ross