Prose

“Moon Pies and Dime Whistles,” by s. smith

Aug 20th, 2009 | By

The wind was a constant, a dry, gritty west wind that in winter ranted and wailed across the   prairie like a madwoman on roller skates. In the dead of summer it was almost always a sighing, an incoherent but incessant babble. There was madness, Mrs. R. thought, in that wind and in the empty horizon.

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“Elvis the Dragon Slayer,” by Glen Batchelor

Aug 20th, 2009 | By

Elvis watched the sun flash from the blade of his sword as he removed the dragon’s blood. It was his fourth killing this year and he was becoming bored. Not only he but the king’s subjects were becoming bored. He was no longer a hero but merely a workaday knight doing a job. He dropped

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“Chance Encounter,” by Chris Ridenour

Jul 20th, 2009 | By

She was wearing what the parlance of the day widely referred to as a wife-beater and even in the dim light of the bar he could make out the tattoo on her back, the inscription “One Ring to Rule Them All” arrayed in a circle around a grinning Richard Simmons. ‘Great God of Tennis Ball

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“Scotch Buy cookies, anyone?” by Rachel Levy

Jul 20th, 2009 | By

While I was growing up, my parents were very particular about food, but also quite practical. My father did most of the grocery shopping at our neighborhood Safeway in Washington, D.C., and he often purchased the house brand. At the time, the supermarkets didn’t want to put their own name on most of their in-house

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“The Anti-Wrath,” by Thomas Sullivan

Jul 20th, 2009 | By

It happens on the Summer Solstice, unfolding quietly during the night, while most people sleep peacefully. No one sees a thing. To the wary night-owls manning convenience store registers nothing is amiss. Cabbies continue to ply their trade, unloading drunks from their cars without interruption. The world’s most advanced radars and missile defense systems sleep

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