So, you’re thinking about working for Mr. Bob Hensham, huh? Think he’s the cat’s pajamas or something? Think his business is going places, but you’re wondering, why am I going around town telling people that he’s the Devil? I’m really glad you asked me that. Settle down, thanks for the beer, and open them big… Continue reading Bob’s Machine
The Lizard of Lamont Goods
LAMONT GOODS. Food you love. Food for your family. The slogan had been etched on banners and billboards all around town for years. Lamont Goods was your basic, run of the mill grocery store. The prices were fair. The products were good. The employees ranged from charming, professional adults to teens that didn’t give a… Continue reading The Lizard of Lamont Goods
Body/Fear
The cold cradled the skin of my ribs as I sat there. The precision in the airis surgical—hair strands felt,every inch wet from sweat.How was I humanwhen all I felt was industrial?How is it a heart when it’s a whirring gear that drags,and drags, and drags?My father’s rusts never leftmy blood; I wish I couldregulate… Continue reading Body/Fear
The Watchers
We watch you, sneaking through the alleys. You blend into the shadows with a combination of charms and carefulness. The secrets aren’t meant for you. Your desire and curiosity woke us from our semi-slumber before you came. We watched you hone your skills, pursuing General Knowledge, then Advanced Magic & Rhetoric, then Masters of Sorcery.… Continue reading The Watchers
The Emerald Shore
There was always something that washed up on the shore. Malcolm Hayes sprawled half-drowned under the relentless sun. Waves dragged his body towards the water, grinding him into the cold, grey sand. Even the crabs ignored him. Dozens of tiny legs pricked against his flesh as they walked over another piece of debris. Mud dripped… Continue reading The Emerald Shore
Wechselbalg
The creature sitting across the table from me is wearing my brother’s face. It has a squat, childlike body, a sickly-sweet mask that attempts to beguile any who look upon it. I watch as it picks up the spoon, dips it into the bowl, brings it nearly empty to its lips, red and rubbery like… Continue reading Wechselbalg
Salt in the Wound
My mother died on a Wednesday night in February. I sat at the kitchen table, staring down at the pinpoints of salt dotted on the dark wood and pressed my hands down onto the granules, observing the particles that stuck versus the ones that simply made light impressions on my skin. The only sound I… Continue reading Salt in the Wound
The Conifers
(a villanelle) The conifers spoke to the deciduous treesDeep in the cool, ancient wood.“Wish,” they whispered, “they were a gentler species.” Honey locusts and maples nodded their leaves,Mulberries and oaks, as well, understood.The conifers spoke to the deciduous trees:“Shall nature stand by as they do as they please?”“We know,” wept the Willow sisters, both so… Continue reading The Conifers
The Doom That Blew Into Gnarlywood
The tumbleweed appeared out of nowhere. It had been a typical summer night in central Jersey, humid with the weariness of clouds trying to hold onto the rain a little longer. A flash of lightning later, and there it was. No rain, just a bramble of knotted twigs. It didn’t tumble as one might expect;… Continue reading The Doom That Blew Into Gnarlywood
Good Luck, Mr. Flowers
He delivered the flowers a whole hour early. Patty N. hadn’t even finished pulling up the shades on the Juniper Street Market windows when his purple delivery truck pulled up to the curb, Mr. Flowers Florists emblazoned on the side. Even though Easter was days away, the air was crisp enough to need a coat,… Continue reading Good Luck, Mr. Flowers
SCRATCH
The closet door was locked shut. For the first few hours, she kept expecting the door to open. Connolly Hall locked itself every night at ten. No one could remember when the rule had started. It was simply how things were done. Amy pounded the door with her fists and kicked at it the way… Continue reading SCRATCH