Archives: August 2017

Crowd Control

The Breslau Centennial Hall had been designed to hold twelve thousand people, but three weeks of relentless campaigning by the Brownshirts had swelled the throng to twice that number. Hundreds of  swastika flags hung in rows from the ceiling, and Goebbels had strategically placed dozens of agitators throughout the crowd. They knew their instructions to

Read on »

High Times

Most of the high-end stores on the Mile use iPads. Supposedly the retail slaves all carry them around so they can ring customers up without needing to go to the counter, but the real reason is they think an iPad makes them look like the rich fucks who shop there. Chip and me had it

Read on »

We Need to Talk

She searched for the right word. Hostility? No, that wasn’t right. Indifferent? She’d once read that the opposite of love wasn’t hate at all, but indifference. Was that what she felt? It was hard to say. She listened to him in the shower singing his same old shower song. Skylark, have you anything to say to me? He would

Read on »

Conversing with a Penitent

Père Sebastién was grave as he listened to the young novitiate unburden himself. The boy seemed on the verge of tears, but it was all Sebastién could do to repress a smile. Such old stuff. Still, it was his duty to hear him out. When at last the boy’s torrent of guilt and remonstrance seemed

Read on »

Leaving One’s Back to the Sea

She of course was dying to tell anyone the danger of leaving one’s back to the sea, an element she said with knifing lips, too dangerous, too vast for trust. The proof, she said was etched beneath its mystery if one could see every comma traced in the surf by dancing lovers’ feet, every vanished

Read on »

Nolo Quietus

“I need to stop a minute.” “You want me to lock the wheels?” He grimaced, I can lock my own goddamn wheels left unsaid as he reached down and flipped the levers that would keep the chair from rolling down the hill once she let go. It was steep enough to be dangerous, the pine needle

Read on »

News to Me

I didn’t listen because I never listened to him, but I saw he didn’t care, his gaze drifting past my face to the construction on the street behind us and back, then down to the beer I bought him, talking the whole time. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. It was the last

Read on »

For Their Own Good, Of Course

The Maps Room was unrecognizable. Desks and tables had been pushed aside for a large Oriental carpet encircled with richly brocaded cushions. Smoke rose from the hookah bowl and mingled with the fog of tobacco hanging from the ceiling.  I made out Sykes sitting on a cushion. He saw me and extended a hand. “Be

Read on »

House to House

He wants it easy, leaning insinuating a natural                         progression. Beyond reason,             he might say anything a personal holocaust served house                to house a purpose  found          at

Read on »