Defenestration

“Shoes,” by Eric Suhem

Gary divorced Gabriela over what he termed as her ‘lack of support for my shoe choices’. In the settlement, Gabriela kept the house, and Gary moved into the Capri Village Apartments. Now single, he felt freer to explore his shoe preferences. Taking a walk, he noticed a shoe store around the corner. “What a stroke of luck!” declared Gary, eyeing his chipped wobbly clogs.

“‘High IQ’ is Now Trending on Twitter,” by Stacey Resnikoff

Theft can be so cliché. “Don’t move.” “Gimme me all your money.” Blah blah blah. Occasionally, however, you run into a criminal with panache. A maverick among the immoral, who surprises with a command like: “Give me those spectacular Italian shoes. Or you’re deader than Olga Knipper.” Now that’ll send you reeling. Especially if you are a Russian symphony conductor with a penchant for Anton Chekhov trivia and weakness for custom leather. Even more so if you don’t realize this information is on your Wikipedia bio.

“Like 911, It’s Just a Number,” by Adriana Tosun

Let’s cut to the chase: Milky (16) likes Joe and Joe (17) likes Milky, but since they’re teenage boys who have known each other for half their lives and who talk mostly about video games and homework and breasts, neither one knows how the other feels, and anyway neither of them is too sure about that gay shit (spoiler: they both end up liking it enough to stick with it). This, however, is not their story, although anybody could assure you it’s a rollicking good one, with drama and intrigue and a fair amount of make-up sex.

Instead, it is a story about their friend, Hallelujah (16), who has fallen in love with Mr. Farneaux (39), her period three English teacher.

“A Thankless Job for It’s [sic] Worker’s [sic],” by Vanessa Weibler Paris

Jonah sat before the panel of blinking red lights. Merry Christmas, except not merry and not Christmas. It was a hot July night, and he’d just started the second of a double shift.

“Pedantics,” he said, taking the next call.

Jonah could remember when teachers still used red pens. There were moans and groans and no-fairs every time a paper was returned. “God,” his friend Emmett complained after class. “She’s a million years old and half-blind; how can she even see such a tiny mistake and who the fuck even cares?”

“Dark Matter,” by Magda Knight

Although I’m alone in thinking this, it all started in a small pub at half past closing time. Several drinks in and an unspecified number of brain cells down, we approached the topics of the day with all the swagger of emperors and kings.

It was Madeleine who broached the question first. She wrote it on the back of a beer mat, refusing to buy the next round until we’d considered her words with what she considered to be a suitable measure of gravitas.

The beer mat read:

A vast meteorite heads towards the earth. Then scientists announce it is actually a gigantic poo.

“‘Happy Holidays’: Bah, Humbug!” by Tom Jemielity

Pity poor Ebenezer Scrooge. Throwing open his window that nippy December morning, he’s so culturally insensitive as to wish everyone a merry Christmas (Pardon my language!). Had he only known how to celebrate the seasonal festivities in a more thoughtful, less offensive way, he could have shouted “Happy Holidays” at all he met. Scrooge, alas, forgot that lots of people out there are not Christians, don’t know what a Christian is, don’t take being a Christian seriously, regard themselves only as nominal Christians, hate Christians, or have vague ideas at best that something Christian is somehow or other connected with December 25th. That’s a big audience ready to be offended. Be very careful.

“A Copy Center Journal,” by Jesse William Olson

Day 1

Started my new job today here at the university, thought I’d keep a journal. Staffing a help desk in the library copy center. Real boring. Read a piece of paper from the recycle bin that caught my eye called “Why Fascism is the Wave of the Future.” Listened to a guy talk to his phone for an hour in a different language while scanning things. He left without saying anything to me. Did not need help with the copiers, I guess.

Must figure out things to do. I wish there was a window.

“The Truth about Those Lincoln-Douglas Debates,” by Michael Fowler

Today’s televised political debates are a difficult medium for the candidates, since each must craft a memorable sound bite of his or her position in thirty seconds for an audience that would rather be watching Dancing with the Stars or Chopped. But were things better on town squares and fairgrounds in Illinois in 1858 when the candidates spoke uninterrupted for two hours on a rickety wooden platform in each of seven open-air encounters? Here’s the truth about those highly touted Lincoln-Douglas debates.

“Nickname Selection Guide for Gangsters,” by Jay Morris

Dear Uncle Jay:

I have recently been contemplating abandoning my job as an itinerant poultry inspector–I’m really tired of all the politics and drama–in order to pursue a full-time career as a gangster. My friend Irwin says that I will never get anywhere in that field without a catchy and colorful nickname, but I’m at a loss as to how to choose one. Can you help?

–B.W., Racine, Wisconsin

“Workshop Notes on ‘The Universe,’” by Katie Burgess

Dear God,

First of all, thank You for sharing Your work with us. I think it has a lot of potential; there’s some interesting imagery, and it flows well. There are a few things, though, that I think are working against it right now.

Like, when we start off, it’s 13.7 billion years ago, and stuff is all hot and dense, so it starts expanding, and the rapid expansion cools everything off, resulting in a continuously expanding state. (Or everything is created from nothing six thousand years ago? There seems to be a discrepancy here.) Your descriptions are really good, but I’m left wondering why any of this is happening in the first place. What’s it all for? You need to ask Yourself, “Why today?”