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December 16, 2013 | Fiction

Free Advice and Fortunes Told

Bonnie Nadzam

In jest you call for your horse, but there is no horse. It’s a bright lettuce-green morning, birds piping overhead. You are on foot, and follow the derelict tracks out of town past the Shell Station.  You step off the road and onto a furry plain of high golden weeds and yellow dross. This is strange. 

Free Advice and Fortunes Told photo
St. Rudolph photo

December 13, 2013 | Fiction

St. Rudolph

Kevin Maloney

It only glows if I believe in God. Of course, the Fat Man doesn’t know that. Once an hour he comes into the barn waving his short black... more

The Pincher photo

December 12, 2013 | Fiction

The Pincher

Ryan Ries

Lyle worked the night shift in a millwork factory, manning a machine nicknamed the Pincher.  Everyone hated the Pincher.  On the day shift they kept going through operators.  Before Lyle, the longest anyone else had lasted on the Pincher was two years.  At least that was how the story went.  Lyle hated the Pincher too, but he’d learned to live with it.  He’d been there nine years and would be there another nine if they let him.  By then he’d have enough saved up for a nice house, one with stairs and a workbench and actual carpeting. 

 
Dear Herculine photo

December 11, 2013 | Poetry

Dear Herculine

Aaron Apps

I don’t mean to fetishize your death, I mean to say we are both corpses in a way. I mean to say that we always already were animals dying into the soil, inhuman.