Fiction

“The Goddess’s Resignation,” by Laurie Brown-Pressly

Aug 20th, 2018 | By

I read through the company-wide email and my hands tremble. Although I recognize the entire middle section as my work, I read it through four more times to be sure. My work has Reginald Douchebag O’Donald’s name on the by-line. Then, I remembered. Our Thursday evening meeting ran long. I’d grown weary of Reginald’s leering and his double entendres, and I was ready to go home. While our team was waiting for our boss to approve a draft, Reginald asked to borrow my laptop for a last minute change to his fantasy football roster; his computer wasn’t connecting to the internet. Sure, I said, and slid the machine across the table hoping this would keep him distracted until the boss returned. How could I have been so naïve? Now he has used my work to get the promotion.



“Inside the Box,” by Hayleigh Santra

Aug 20th, 2018 | By

Man walks by carrying a box wrapped in tin foil. It’s impossible to see what’s inside.

S: What if he’s carrying a human head in there?

H: It’s a bunch of butterflies.

S: It’s a gecko.



“A Short Temper For Tall Tales,” by Michael Augustine Dondero

Aug 20th, 2018 | By

Lunar Base Commander Raines reporting to Houston. I’m not sure what you witnessed on your end, but we’ve got a bit of an issue up here.

I know this is going to sound fantastical but here goes:

I’m fairly certain that Command Module Pilot Aikman is a werewolf.



“Frequently Asked Questions About Your Robot,” by Michael Augustine Dondero

Apr 20th, 2018 | By

Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of the most advanced model in Artificial Intelligence Personal Assistance by Montague Tech Corp: The Magnus® 13. Like you, each Magnus® 13 (M13) is unique. In no time at all, it will evolve to understand and cater to your specific needs.

So, sit back and let your M13 do all the work.



“Love in the Time of GMOs,” by Shelli Cornelison

Apr 20th, 2018 | By

Conventional wisdom would dictate that potato chips were unlikely to lead a woman to her soulmate. But Sarah didn’t subscribe to conventional wisdom, nor did she eat conventional chips. Much like beer snobs only drank craft brews, she only ate artisanal chips. They were a thing. It was 2018, America was going to hell in handbasket, and people were finding solace in all sorts of small batch comforts.