Fake Nonfiction

“Dead Cat in Brooklyn,” by Adam Wojack

Oct 28th, 2020 | By

I mean, wuddaya suppose to do wid a dead cat inna city? Not like you can dig a hole in yuh backyard and berry it. I got a small apahtment, on Wess Fourf street in Brooklyn, near duh bus that takes you tuh Canahsie. I don’t go tuh Canahsie. Dat place has changed, and not for da better. I stay right heah in Gravesend where I belawng. Good place wid good people. I can get my kwaffee and my newspapuh right on duh corner for tree dollars still, like innee old days. You can’t say that for a lotta places these days. Times has changed, for sure.



“Letter to the Aliens,” by Pete Able

Oct 14th, 2020 | By

Let me be the first to welcome you to Earth. And let me assure you right off the bat that I’m not too proud to beg for my life, nor to serve you in any degrading manner you see fit. I’m sure I can make myself useful to you in some small, yet indispensable way. I’m not particularly well informed or intelligent, but I like to think I have better taste and more common sense than the average citizen of our humble little planet. All of my modest abilities are at your disposal.



“Amazon Prime’s Dating Marketplace for the Socially Inept [beta],” by Keith R. Fentonmiller

Oct 7th, 2020 | By

Are you seeking a soulmate and also fed up with your grime-covered home exterior? Well, lend Joe a power washer and get ready to be wooed by his encyclopedic knowledge of what some call “the golden age of hoisting mechanism jurisprudence.”



“My Higher Education: Recollected After Viewing Martin Scorsese’s The Irishman,” by Mike Fowler

Sep 30th, 2020 | By

I began my Shakespeare studies under Professor Alfred Wainscot at the University of Cincinnati in 1982. Dr. Wainscot had recently published his groundbreaking study of the Bard’s so-called problem plays, with special attention to the deformed Greek Thersites in Troilus and Cressida. A month after handing out our freshman class syllabus, he was found face down in the Ohio River near the Serpentine Wall in Cincinnati, his body riddled with .45 cartridges and a cinderblock tired around his neck. He was identified, even so, by his alert look.  



“Flannery O’Connor, Instagram Influencer,” by Laura K. LaGrone

Sep 9th, 2020 | By

therealflannyo25 The baby looked thataway at birth, weren’t nothin’ nobody coulda ferseen or helped. All the same, he had a sweet smell to him on account of the Johnson’s ™ talcum powder. #evenuglybabiesneedlove therealflannyo25 The Curel™ lanolin might’ve helped, if the gangrene hadn’t settled itself in like a cat on a window seat. #warinjuries therealflannyo25

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