Edward Austin Hall
Hidden from his fellow attorneys’ view by the boardroom table, Reed Shields’s right hand drummed softly on the briefcase beside him. His left hand perched against his face like some uncertain insect.
“Again,” Ani Martinsson said to Terry Smith, their client. The previous day’s … view
A pair of Ghettobirds came for Ol’ Preacher Bag Lady at Five Points station, Eastbound to Indian Creek.
One of them hovered over Ol’ Preacher Bag Lady, a mechanical chimera with a tall, feminine figure, a hawk’s head, wasp wings and a kaleidoscopic breastplate. The head was not … view
On the sheet in my head where a one-eyed glob of paintbombs ariates on the nutritional value of pitchforkless villagers and the bad bad good docter is last-minute menufying fools from his Rolodex I picture my neighbor again kicking his unloved unlittle offleash landshark down the back steps to the … view
The New Monster
It says it’s not a monster,
though you see its big fangs,
smell the blood of its lungs.
It’s always carrying a victim,
a boy or a princess, claiming
it’s trying to help bring this one
back to life. … view
Hester L. Furey
At first their story shocked her, then she got to like it.
“No!” she told them: “Ladies, you can’t!”
“Who says?” they demanded.
“This is our story!”
They leaned in across the table.
She … view
How do you pick up a Goth girl? With your knees, not your back. She tried to remember who told her that as she braced herself, took a deep breath, gripped the handles and pushed with arms, back and knees. But the goddamn wheel spun again before the … view