Prose

“To the Best Nanny in the Whole World Except for This One Little Thing,” by Maggie Lane

May 8th, 2013 | By

Dear Jackie,

Please know how grateful Edward and I are for the loving care you provide to Louisa and Will. Because their attachment to you is strong, perhaps even excessive, and because they believe that everything you do is the “right” way and ours by contrast is “wrong” or “stupid” and once even “for shit,” it’s important that we be on the same page in our childrearing practices.



“This Arbitrary Time Span in Human History: Humans Conceive of Their Doom, Release ‘Publication,'” by Owen Davis

May 1st, 2013 | By

ITEM: For a period of time, human extinction was not a foregone conclusion, particularly among certain humans.

At a period of time one hundred revolutions of the sun prior to now, a number of humans amalgamated as “Human Rights Watch” (HRW) created a piece of paper entitled “Losing Humanity: The Case Against Killer Robots.”

At the time HRW began printing this piece of paper, other humans were building machines independently capable of destroying other humans. They called these “drones,” now entitled Generation 1.1.



“School Shooter Sues Professor,” by Sara Backer

Apr 24th, 2013 | By

Central Junction City–Convicted gunman Wilbur Zeus Grindwell, serving a life sentence at Inman Penitentiary, is now suing his English professor for her role in his attack on fellow college students at Central Junction College last semester that killed 10 and wounded 7 students and staff. Grindwell claims the professor, Dr. Janella Rondeau, encouraged him to stage his assault on her Writing 101 class with a semi-automatic Ruger SR-556.



“You Non-Miraculous Son of a Bitch,” by Eirik Gumeny

Apr 20th, 2013 | By

Danny Ramirez was sitting on the toilet when he heard it. The constant, staccato thuds and the slight clatter of plates and glasses bunny-hopping across the kitchen counter.

Not again, he thought. Not another embarrassing phone call to the complex office. Not another disgusted plumber calling in for backup. Maria walking in at the exact worst moment. Danny could feel his face turning red at the mere thought. Only then did he realize he hadn’t flushed yet. There was no way the steady shaking could be the result of a pipe trying desperately not to explode. Danny relaxed considerably.



“In the Attic,” by Alexei Kalinchuk

Apr 20th, 2013 | By

I found a ventriloquist’s dummy in a felt-lined box in the attic of my late uncle. Upon lifting the lid, its eyes snapped open and it began moving its jaw. He was glad to see me, he said. Living in a box is no living. He wanted out. He wanted to do new things.