J. S. Watts
by J. S. Watts Art by Arnold T. Blumberg They came for me at dusk, before the tired light had fully faded from the sky. Before I could finally sleep. Before I could wake. I wasn’t yet dead, was as weak—no, weaker—than them. There were twelve of
Aeryn Rudel
by Aeryn Rudel Art by Arnold T. Blumberg There’s a hole in me. I’m not speaking metaphorically. If I lift my shirt, you’ll see a black disk about the size of a softball just above my belly button. It doesn’t hurt, but it makes a strange
Greg Clumpner
by Greg Clumpner Art by Arnold T. Blumberg To Mr. Joshua Harrington or current resident, You pre-qualify for our program and the Spirited Credit Union (SCU) is pleased to offer you a Reverse Soul Mortgage™. With a Reverse Soul Mortgage™, SCU will take ownership of your soul for a limited
Meredith Kinrys
by Meredith Kinrys Art by Arnold T. Blumberg The only blessings of drifting aimlessly through space, far from any planet to call home, are visits from mysterious spirits we call mermaids. The origin of the ominous spectres that swim past our windows is a mystery, but their long bodies of
Jetse de Vries
by Jetse de Vries Art by Arnold T. Blumberg Subliminal: A sublime liminality of intent, a di- chotomy of trial and error turned into the survival of the fittest The prokaryote swims in the primordial soup. It arises from a mix of chiral chemistry: right-handed chirality for nucleotides and sugars,
Demakatso May
by Demakatso May Art by Arnold T. Blumberg When the first echo bloom appeared in Clara’s garden, she mistook it for a weed. Its stem was knotted and gray, and its petals were translucent like moth wings. She nearly uprooted it, but something—a flicker of movement in the
Michael M. Jones
by Michael M. Jones Art by Arnold T. Blumberg “First day on the job, huh?” the elder kobold growled, looking down his crooked green nose at the visibly nervous rookie standing before him. “Yes, sir,” came the reply. “Chim the Extremely Lesser, of Clan Coaleater.” “Another Chim. I swear, every
Sam Logan
by Sam Logan Art by Arnold T. Blumberg You have started a conversation. Chatbot: Hi! I’m your employer-provided mental health coach. How are you feeling today? Employee: Well, I’m NOT thrilled to discuss my mental state with an artificial intelligence chatbot. This is a mandated session after I
Jack Morton
By Jack Morton Art by Arnold T. Blumberg Gran shuffles over from the stove, a thick, home-knit cloth protecting her hand from the black iron handle of the kettle. She pours over the dried brown leaves, and a thick, musty, homey smell rises with the steam. It smells like a
Malda Marlys
by Malda Marlys Artwork by Doan Trang My daughter haunts me. Her shadow lingers in doorways that are empty when I look. The cat, older than dirt, wakes only to yowl for her attention. Books tumble, sensible books she bought me for Christmas that I never read. They fall from
Chris Doty
by Chris Doty-Dunn Art by Arnold T. Blumberg 187 Begonia Avenue was depressed. The house had been happy once. As a starter home, a suburban oasis, a hospice. But since its last occupant had died, only raccoons and mice and a few splotches of mold lived under 187’s sagging
Dan Peacock
by Dan Peacock Scott, I know this isn’t a good time for you, with the mysterious ultradimensional entities occupying most of downtown. But it’s not a good time for anyone. It’s taken me a long time to pluck up the courage to write this letter, but here