Stories

The Object of this Story – Theresa Smith

Most of the information in the world, prior to the act of organization, exists as minimally interconnected, even isolated, bits of data. The relevance of these data to one another may be clear, unclear or nonexistent. A system that is maximally interconnected, by contrast, consists of elements networked in such a way that each element is necessary to explain the inclusion of other elements. The object of this story is not to illustrate the ease with which you could construct a convincing philosophy that evades the suspicions of a person of ordinary gullibility,

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Columns

Daily Mainichi News Wire – Sprague Dawley

Local Ski Jumper Loses Track Of Time One Afternoon And Forgets To Report For Winter Olympics

–Times–

A local ski jumper reportedly “got a bit carried away at home with something or other” and completely forgot to report for the Winter Olympics. He had been selected to compete in the ski jump event. “Yes, I’d put my ski’s on, ready to go, and then started in on something else and completely lost track of the time I’m afraid”

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Stories

Flying Condors – Tony V

“Take this.” Jacquelyn tore a couple of tiny squares from the perforated strip and passed them to me. 

“You’re kidding.” 

I tried hard not to stare at her nipples, peering up at me from underneath her thin white shirt.

“Not at all. The acid will help you see.” She put two squares in her mouth and stuck out her tongue,

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Art

Two Poems – Cait Reynolds

Modern Love is a Fear of Radio Silence

 

 

My existential crisis is chronic

Dying with my doe eyes and fair skin

this insomnia is killing me

or at the very least

will make me look worn out

As a woman those two things are terrifying

and essentially the same

My pulse races uncontrollably and I don’t know

if I’m in love

if this is happiness

or a panic attack

My calm exterior is my greatest role

but the persona is finally dissipating

a crack in the mortar

a patina on far too young of a woman

Maybe an adult life of believing in

the wrong people

is perpetuating my skepticism

More than anything it’s made my constitution

far too fragile

too fragile for heartbreak

too fragile to expose love’s raw nerve

I wanted to believe in love

in romance unbound and transformative

it was not to be trusted

It’s a car crash I’ve walked away from

seemingly unscathed

But upon further inspection

my sternum is bruised

a few ribs out of place

to be touched brings excruciating pain

It left me starving,

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