Posts Tagged ‘ Prose ’

“User Guide for the XR-7 Series K Time Machine,” by Scott Talbot Evans

Oct 29th, 2025 | By

Congratulations on your purchase of XR7-Series K Time Machine. You have made a wise decision guaranteed to bring your family countless hours of entertainment.

No refunds.



“Today’s Top 5 Headlines—October 2025,” by Emma McNamara

Oct 22nd, 2025 | By

1. “I Didn’t Reject You; You Weren’t Even Eligible To Apply In The First Place,” Says Lesbian To Straight Man



“A Peer-Reviewed Study on Why You’re Always Being Watched by a Crow,” by Sabyasachi Roy

Oct 15th, 2025 | By

You, specifically, are being watched by a crow. Not “people in general.” Not “someone out there.” You. This is not a metaphor. This is not a spiritual fable. This is not a goth phase. This is science. We have charts. We have caw-based data. We have a control group that accidentally summoned a parliament of ravens instead (they’re fine now, mostly).

Over a 24-month observational study funded by a grant we may have misunderstood (thank you, Department of Unusual Phenomena and Municipal Pigeon Control), our team conclusively determined that a crow has selected you—yes, you reading this—to be its permanent subject of anthropological curiosity, judgment, and occasional sabotage.



“Library Death Throes: Panic Breaks Out Among the Books Themselves,” by Fred D. White

Oct 8th, 2025 | By

Existential fear has descended upon the venerable stacks of the Silicon Valley College library. Darkness at Noon is among the first to feel it, and not just because of the rat-tat-tatting of jackhammers. Something ominous is also taking place inside: library personnel are yanking cartloads of books off the shelves, denuding them of their spines and covers, feeding them page-by-page into scanners, reassembling them, and as a final outrage packing them into metal bins.



“I Dreamt I Was a Single Mother—But It Gets Worse,” by Andrea Tode

Oct 1st, 2025 | By

I had the strangest dream last night. I was running through a Beauty and the Beast-esque castle while being chased by a cartoon policeman. A life-long lucid dreamer, I immediately knew this was a dream, not because the law was on my heels in a Disney-inspired castle, but because I was too tall—a miraculous six feet—and also deaf. I was carrying a small grey backpack with a frozen baby inside it. Despite being rock solid in its frozen cage, the baby was somehow alive. My mission was to take it to a magical fridge which could save its life.