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Newsletter:
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October, 2015Footprints
David Pulliam “They’re gunna kill me, Kev.” I search his eyes for the lie. This would be a new low, even for him. There is only fear reflected back at me, cold, desperate fear. I suddenly wish he would have told me he was strung out again. I clear my throat. “Who?”... Read More... This is Not a Love Story Lisa Shapter I tested everything as I had been taught in basic. I was breathing pain free and every joint moved without pain. I would have to get up to check range of motion but I did not feel well enough to do that. I had been hurt much worse than I had felt in any basic VR drill or previous accident. I had to have spent some time in the ‘suit’s care, perhaps a few days, and this ship’s transponder had not been in range when I was working on the satellite... Read More... The Other End of the Line Katherine Boehm I cough. My neck is stiff. The skin by my eyes is stretched, inducing a headache as I stare at the monitor. I swear the light in this room is vibrating. I have a few more calls to make before Degi Tech to fill my quota. The phone’s in my hand. The proper tone plays. The script is white and glares at me from the screen. I hold up the phone, pull my mouth open, and press my teeth together. Clients can hear a smile in your voice. The tone stops, and a voice comes through. “Hello?”... Read More... Yard Work Kent McDaniel Bob Quigly stood looking out his bay window wondering when the neighborhood started to suck. When Janet, the kids, and he moved in, it was all cops, firefighters, and teachers. Who had to live in the city for their jobs. Things were suburban as Chicago got; the burbs started a couple blocks north of Bob’s house, in fact. But that was twenty-two years ago and for a while now, whenever somebody moved out, somebody worse moved in. Like that fat slob across the street now in her lawn chair. Why did she always sit there? The people over there before never pulled that shit. They stayed inside or sat out back like normal people... Read More... |
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