Category Archives: Fiction

“Installing Linux on a Dead Badger” by Lucy Snyder   Let’s face it: any script kiddie with a pair of pliers can put Red Hat on a Compaq, his mom’s toaster, or even the family dog. But nothing earns you … Continue reading →

“Entries From My Grandmother’s Diary Pertaining To My Father’s Early Inflammation” by Marc A. Criley and Hazel L. Criley ANNUAL DIARY 1938 Mrs. Robert “Lily” Harrison 288 S 42nd E. Alton, Ill.   July 30, 1938: Robbie Jr has fever … Continue reading →

“Malum in Se” by Deborah L. Davitt Tanoute Atalia woke from her nightmare as she always did, sweating and flailing. Violet afterimages of the explosion, the dark, alien shapes of the boarding party- She sat up in the dark. Set … Continue reading →

  “Feathers, Sea, Silk, Sky” by Anna Martino      The last time captain Mathieu Agostini had seen the Sanguinaire Islands, he had been a boy of seven years old holding onto his widowed mother’s hand. There they were, as ageless … Continue reading →

  “Dowsing for Devils in Arkansas” by Tom Pawlowski   I suppose I was lucky to be in Arkansas to witness that marvel of nature, the synchronous hatching of Magicicada, a breed of Cicadas that all hatch at the same … Continue reading →

“Control State” by Michael Stevens   I don’t mind if the kids blow up my furniture while I’m counseling them. Really. They can singe my office chairs, tip over my bookcase, or rip the heads off the dolls I keep … Continue reading →

“The Golden Rays of the Morning Sun” by Marc A. Criley A blue-violet flash. And sparks, streams of sparks; immersing me in all-the-colors-of-the-rainbow sparks. A dull rumble punches through the helmet’s attenuators. I’m weightless, floating…and stupidly lucid. Weightless, not space … Continue reading →

“Three Hundred and Sixty-Four Hand-Tied Knots” by R. Y. Brockway Today I tied thirty-seven knots and completed my rug’s missing rosette. It took all the orange silk I unraveled from the obi I found stashed amongst the ingots to complete … Continue reading →

“Hellhound, House Broken” by Gerri Leen   The hellhound was patrolling the neighborhoods he’d come to love, waiting for his next call to action, when he smelled the unmistakable scent of what the humans called treats. Then he got a … Continue reading →

“Melton’s Jam” by A.W. Marshall Melton didn’t sell his Jam. And he was kinda touchy about people finding out, but I was desperate. I was gonna be a professional bowler, and my nickname was gonna be Easy Tiger. But none … Continue reading →