Posts Tagged ‘ XIX.I ’

“The Cultural Repository,” by Katherine Cowley

Apr 20th, 2022 | By

The day we transported the British Museum, twenty thousand humans spilled out of the Underground and took to London’s streets in protest. In their hands—humans possess only two, but still manage to use them quite effectively—they carried all manner of inventive signs: “You Can’t Spell Earth Without Art,” “My Heart Belongs to the British Museum,” “Our History Should be Grounded in Our Soil,” and “Earth Should Brexit the Alien Pact.”



“The Grand Marriott Hotel ♒︎⧫♏●,” by A.K. Blake

Apr 20th, 2022 | By

We hope you enjoyed your stay at the Grand Marriott Hotel ♒︎⧫♏●, where our motto is “Timeless service in any timeline.” Please take a few minutes to respond to a short questionnaire. As a small thanks for completing the survey, you will be entered to win a prize in the preferred currency of your dimension (rare natural objects, paper cash, antimatter, credit card, cryptocurrency, or direct cerebro-chip transfer). We look forward to serving you again soon.



“So Mote It Be!” by Katherine Gleason

Apr 20th, 2022 | By

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“In the lair of the blue-beaked noddie,” by Robert Garnham

Apr 20th, 2022 | By

‘Well, someone’s sure as hell spooking the blue-beaked noddies’, Greg said.

We remained quiet, of course.

‘Gibbering wrecks, the lot of them. The island jungle is a fragile ecosystem. They only exist on this island because there aren’t any other predators. Rats . . Cats . . Humans . .’.

I was a human, and so was Liam. It was hard not to take this last remark personally.



“Muse Match.com,” by Susan Chertkow

Apr 20th, 2022 | By

I never thought I’d use an online Muse service, but there I was signing up on one, paying for premium features, adding my photo and profile to dozens of other aspiring writers. My writing block was impenetrable, my slump insurmountable, my misery inescapable.