Fiction

“The Grand Marriott Hotel ♒︎⧫♏●,” by A.K. Blake

Apr 20th, 2022 | By

We hope you enjoyed your stay at the Grand Marriott Hotel ♒︎⧫♏●, where our motto is “Timeless service in any timeline.” Please take a few minutes to respond to a short questionnaire. As a small thanks for completing the survey, you will be entered to win a prize in the preferred currency of your dimension (rare natural objects, paper cash, antimatter, credit card, cryptocurrency, or direct cerebro-chip transfer). We look forward to serving you again soon.



“So Mote It Be!” by Katherine Gleason

Apr 20th, 2022 | By

Your customized spell(s) from spells.com is/are below. Please remember Magick is real. We encourage you to cast each of your spells as written. Be sure to read through each spell thoroughly as soon as possible so you can order all the necessary Magickal supplies from the Shoppe. (As a valued spells.com customer, you get a 20% discount on all Magickal goods ordered within the next week.)



“In the lair of the blue-beaked noddie,” by Robert Garnham

Apr 20th, 2022 | By

‘Well, someone’s sure as hell spooking the blue-beaked noddies’, Greg said.

We remained quiet, of course.

‘Gibbering wrecks, the lot of them. The island jungle is a fragile ecosystem. They only exist on this island because there aren’t any other predators. Rats . . Cats . . Humans . .’.

I was a human, and so was Liam. It was hard not to take this last remark personally.



“Muse Match.com,” by Susan Chertkow

Apr 20th, 2022 | By

I never thought I’d use an online Muse service, but there I was signing up on one, paying for premium features, adding my photo and profile to dozens of other aspiring writers. My writing block was impenetrable, my slump insurmountable, my misery inescapable.



“The Deal,” by Daniel Winn

Dec 20th, 2021 | By

As an experiment, a very rich man gave me one hundred million dollars, with the stipulation that I’d let him kill me in ten years, about ten years ago. For some reason it kind of slipped my mind. That’s how I am: taxes catch me by surprise every year; I forget plans until the last second and rush out of the house; once I left my private jet in the Cayman’s because I went back commercial by mistake. The only thing that was on my mind when I got the text reminding me about my agreement was the excruciatingly drawn-out remodeling of the left side of my mansion (when facing the mansion). It was a fairly nice text, as texts about your eventual murder, from your eventual murderer, go.