Stories

Transmission – Ted Prokash

I have bad memories in this place. Well, actually they’re good memories, but that’s a secret between you and me. The last time I drank here I ended up walking down the street and punching out a window at the DMV. That glass had to be a quarter inch thick, Officer Kohlbeck said. Finally he respected me.

I’d sworn off the place, citing bad service and overpriced food,

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Stories

HOOKUP – Rachel Lilim

You flick off your bathroom light, face dissolving slowly on the mirror’s tongue. Features melt to pale cut lozenges, dripping saliva. Flip the light back on -quick- before it swallows. In your hallway the walls sweat algae tinged condensation. Trace your hand along, feel it sting small cuts on the webbing between fingers. A voice on the phone tells you about a club you’ll be at later. Kitchen resplendent with a thousand splinters of light.

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Stories

Art Criticism – SG Phillips

        Of course Miles, being a gentlemen of the noon-age of 40 years and so a fully grown and enfranchised property owning male citizen in the Roman Empire according to the old reliable Law of the 12 Tables (he had been fluent in Latin as a youth), had not imbibed the exquisite pleasure of masturbation in nearly 14 years. This being due partly to his overuse of amphetamines since his discovery of that magnificent breakthrough chemical when he was 26 years old,

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Stories

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DEAR MARCI
xxxxxxxxxxxx – Jack Skelley

So what use is emotion? What use is anything? Oh, Oh, I’m not understanding anything anymore, even as perceptions stream in at all angles all hours all pores all doors to the soul in mortal anguish, while nobody is understanding anything. The only question is when to kill oneself.

Not only is there NO ESCAPE FROM PERCEIVING but the only way to deal with pain is to kill oneself.

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