Fiction

“An Egg, an Ogg, and a Grog,” by TS Hendrik

Aug 20th, 2016 | By

Ogg and Grog strolled through the beautiful prehistoric environment. The sun was shining brightly, and the air warm, with just the slightest chance of Ice Age. All around the world seemed to be at peace.

“What a lovely day it is in 3000 B.C.,” Ogg proclaimed.

“B.C.? What’s that?” Grog asked.

“Before Christ. It’s the other one I can never remember.”



“Once Upon a Bed Time Dreary,” by Jennifer Pullen

Aug 20th, 2016 | By

Once upon a time there was a child who had the misfortune to be born in a kingdom with some extremely socially sensitive fairies. Shush, you asked for Sleeping Beauty, and so that’s what I’m giving you. I know I’m not reading it, I’m telling it, that’s what people used to do all the time, you know. When? Once upon a time, that’s when. Anyway. So once upon a time.



“Inch-High Girlfriend,” by Darry Dinnell

Aug 20th, 2016 | By

The first question people ask after your inch-high girlfriend has been carried off to the ladies’ room by one of her girlfriends is some variation of “So what is your sex-life like?” Refreshingly absent in the asking is the usual leering grin that accompanies friendly inquiries into intimate affairs. Rather, the look is more often one of deep concern – severe, even. The question is a fair one, and I will answer it for you in due course; there are, however, other things you might be interested to know about dating a woman who is one inch tall.



“The Last Bathroom,” by Katherine Cowley

Aug 20th, 2016 | By

The world was ending, yet instead of taking a last stand against the winged beastlings, Quintessence insisted on visiting every single women’s restroom in the city.

As they dashed towards the mall, Quin funneled energy through a bead in her necklace. A translucent, 3D map of the building appeared before her. “Keep them off us!” she shouted.

Hoshi ran her trembling fingers through her blue hair, trying to maintain calm. Then she did as her master commanded. She drew energy through the ground, into her feet. She passed it lightly through her body and blasted streaks of blue light through the sky, destroying several pockets of the locusts. Yet the sky grew darker with their millions of bodies.



“Ott Toby,” by KJ Hannah Greenberg

Aug 20th, 2016 | By

Toby was an Ott. Ordinary in his coloring, he appeared all green with an array of filled orange circles. His nose, as was typical, was red (Itts, in contrast, he taught us, are pink with purple specks and gray proboscises.)

Our Ott arrived late one summer. Bernie didn’t see him, and, when he consequently sat on Toby, he disappeared. Toby’s ears, too, went missing, but Betsy claims that Toby’s selective hearing predated that happenstance.



“Girt by Side Effects,” by John Domenichini

Aug 20th, 2016 | By

It started three months ago. I was getting ready for work when I noticed my feet didn’t feel right. I looked at my shoes and realized I had them on the wrong feet. It was kind of funny, but how does a sober adult put his shoes on the wrong feet?

I switched my shoes and went to work. I told my wife about it that night and we had a good laugh.



“Go Badgers!” by Christina Dalcher

Aug 20th, 2016 | By

Dear Incoming Students of the Class of 2020!

Please join us for a performance of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet this evening in the outdoor amphitheatre. After the play, soft drinks and snacks will be served in the Jefferson Courtyard.

Go Badgers!



“Teratology 101: A Handbook for New Mothers in the Monster Age,” by Christina Dalcher

Apr 20th, 2016 | By

To ensure a head of disproportionate smallness, it is recommended the mother be an alcoholic. While moderate drinking may effect inadequate head size and facial defects, the desired malformation of ears, nose, and digits cannot be guaranteed without regular and heavy consumption of alcoholic beverages, particularly during the first trimester. Spirits are preferred to grape-based products.



“Pitch Meeting: Election 2020: Running Mates,” by Kathryn Paulsen

Apr 20th, 2016 | By

“See, it’s Barack and Hilary all over again, only she’s a Latina firebrand married to an ex-priest and he’s a rabbi married to a feminist scholar who’s a dean at Harvard.”

“Hey, what if he’s a rabbi and dean of the religious department at Harvard, and she’s the prosecutor who cleaned up Houston?”

“Works for me.”

“So they hate each other’s guts, but it’s not because of the religious and ethnic differences.”



“Pinning,” by Lindsay A. Chudzik

Apr 20th, 2016 | By

I played tennis with Madeline Morling each Monday. Everly Trickett and I did tea on Tuesdays. Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays I lunched with other ladies who lunched. I spent weekends shuffling my children to play dates with the Morling, Trickett, and Kipling children, and shuffling my husband, Andy, and me to dinner dates with their parents sans the Kiplings. Andy didn’t approve of Russ Kipling, our newest neighbor, because he had secured their home through what my husband called “a tacky foreclosure.” Also, his wife worked in the non-profit sector while Russ cared for their twins. Andy often said, “Never trust a man with unscuffed shoes, Corrine.” He insisted this pointed to laziness and an unwillingness to provide for his family.