Prose

“Minor Maine Figures Whose Statues Are Now In Storage: Henry Cooper,” by Tom Busillo

Dec 20th, 2024 | By

Henry Cooper never learned how to walk forward, so backward was out of the question. He could only walk sideways.

Eventually, as Henry reached puberty, he started to think about girls and became extremely self-conscious about walking sideways. So he took action.



“Existential BDSM,” by Joelle Killian

Dec 20th, 2024 | By

You’re a masochist. Orchestrating the universe’s workings for your own pleasure, transforming everyone into a whip-wielding master.

Pervert.

Not satisfied with mundane dungeons and pro-dommes, you’re into the lifestyle, baby. 24/7.



“Pepe the Space Station,” by T. J. Young

Dec 20th, 2024 | By

Space station Zeta Orionis was, it must be admitted, a strange place. Not only was it located on the far fringes of known space, many light years from Earth, it also had been designed by an exceedingly eccentric architect known only by his initials, NTBFW. This man, or woman—no one was sure which—must have had a grudge against the conglomerate that commissioned the station, because it was designed and built in such a way that it resembled an obese chihuahua. It was well known at the time that the CEO of the conglomerate, Ms. Francine von Chew, had accidentally killed just such a pet when she forgot to outfit the dog in its custom tailored space suit, and the dog—Pepe—subsequently exploded when Ms. von Chew left her gigantic mansion on Mars to take Pepe for a walk.



“Sour Lemon Crumble,” by Mandy Houk

Dec 20th, 2024 | By

Delia scrunched her eye up to the peephole and watched Rodney’s tiny rounded figure rock and toddle its way up the sidewalk, growing larger step by step. She took note of the fact that his cardigan buttons weren’t aligned, leaving a triangle-like flap to dangle at the bottom. But by the time he was large enough to fill the circle of glass, she’d determined not to care about that. Men in this town were scarce, and she’d snagged one. Imperfections be damned.



“It Was Futile for Your Employees to Wear Garlic Necklaces: A Vampire’s Post-Job Interview Courtesy Letter,” by Mark Ifanson

Dec 20th, 2024 | By

My pleasant day began with Peter at the front desk, a delightful young man. Notes of turmeric and cardamon, and just the right balance of heat; chicken tikka masala and saag paneer, I believe. It’s a shame he struggled so much, those injuries were totally avoidable.