I listened to "The Town Manager" by Thomas Ligotti while driving to work, my skin attempting to crawl out of its skin. Leaving my car for the sweltering sauna that is Nebraska in August, I finally exhaled—my breath a frost-chilled plume. Or so I imagined as I contemplated the story I had just experienced. Elegantly … Continue reading The Town Manager: A Nightmare of Complacency (Pseudopod 605)
Original Pub: Paradigm Journal: The Jackson Issue Winter 2009 On John Reily's first day at the new school in rural Nebraska, Mrs. Clarkson stood him before the third grade class and introduced him to the silent room. When she asked him to tell the class where he was from, John said, "I'm from Colorahdo." His … Continue reading John’s Germs
Do you want me to hold your hand? I asked her. No. I can do it by myself. The hole was just wide enough for two to lie side by side. When she was comfortable, she looked up at the blue rectangle of sky for the last time. See you tomorrow, she said.
Last night, Nightlight Podcast tweeted the awesome writing prompt: "The wind carried more than a chill to the air." I attempted to tweet a response, which became a hot mess because I suck at Twitter. Anyhow, this was my response: Unseen and unfelt, we passed at night through your windows, your crawlspaces, your mail slots. Carried … Continue reading The wind carried more than a chill to the air. (a Nightlight Podcast writing prompt)
My husband designed an enormous tattoo for me and took me to a studio to have it drawn up. The artist there was a woman with long, dark hair who resembled N. (who I worked for in Pennsylvania during the 2016 general election). She was thrilled to take on the project and began drawing it … Continue reading Dream #262: Mark of the Beasts
Time Was by Ian McDonald is the most exquisitely tender war/ time travel story I’ve ever encountered. If time travel has never been your thing, this is your gateway drug. [Edit] Okay, I just have to say more about this book because I can’t stop thinking about it! In fact, it’s one of the very … Continue reading Time Was by Ian McDonald
I am Spite. That is my name. Do not doubt me. Enjoy your little walks up my sidewalk, down again, just outside the vire fence. Try not to turn your head, but I am in your eye corner always. Try not to fink about it. Am I a purr-version of the rubber chicken? Am I … Continue reading Friday the Firteenf
When I was little, I had a children’s storybook about the friendship between Mary and her cousin Elizabeth. The one thing that stuck with me was this picture of the two women walking along a street together as, in a tree high above them, a large owl of indeterminate species gazed down at them. That … Continue reading The Awl and the Orm