Prose

“Free Magic Tricks,” by Becky Cardwell

Sep 1st, 2010 | By

Picture this: You’re at a party. Everyone around you is talking about how lame the party is, saying they would rather be anywhere but there. Suddenly, without warning, you stand up and perform an amazing magic trick, and nobody can believe their eyes!

Could you imagine getting that kind of recognition? Having the power to, at any time, swoop in and steal the entire show? Well, you’d better start imagining it, because today I’m going to reveal my most amazing, show-stealing and “Oh-so astonishing!” magic tricks. FOR FREE!!!



“Space Opera,” by Cal Cleary

Aug 20th, 2010 | By

I am sitting in a room with at least three hundred people, and I have been asked to move to the back because of my gigantic hat. I am not sure how to react. If I move, I will undoubtedly read about my shame in tomorrow’s gossip section, or at least I will hear about it tauntingly during my daily super-spacial swimming with fellow gentlemen. I do not want this. And, I reason, if the people behind me were important enough to do something about it, they would very probably not be sitting behind me.



“Cookies,” by Lauren Hargrave

Aug 19th, 2010 | By

“I don’t know what to tell you, our last exterminator wasn’t worth jack. He bumped and bruised his way through our home like a Neanderthal on steroids.”

“He was a cute Neanderthal from what I remember.”

“Eh, I don’t like the cleft chin thing; it reminds me of a plumber’s crack. And when someone’s ripping your kitchen apart and tearing up your hydrangeas, it’s pretty difficult to find them attractive.”



“The Saint of Redirection,” by Robert Scotellaro

Aug 19th, 2010 | By

I pray to the patron Saint of Redirection, who shows up juggling sardines and a large red apple he takes a bite out of every revolution or so.

“This life,” I say. “The sheer weight of it…”

“Is that you?” he asks, letting the silvery circle collapse at his feet — slipping the apple in his pocket. He’s pointing to an old photo. “No, that’s my older brother, when we were kids. I’m the one…” I turn and see he’s now rowing across the living room in a small boat. “Calm seas,” he announces, skirting the TV. “I think it’s going to be a magnificent voyage.”



“The Jane Austen Politico Fan Club,” by Leslie Haynsworth

Aug 19th, 2010 | By

“Folkstone looks a lot less orange today,” says Denise. “So that’s the good news. The bad news is that he’s still not quite on message about the school funding thing. He told the Nurses Association that his plan would cut their property taxes by an average of 31%. But our data shows that 64% of nurses in our state rent rather than own their primary residences. And as you know …”