Ludwig took the short route down the toilet. With his pants around his ankles and holding the stump of his left arm, he took a long dive through the vines and into yesterday's paper. "He's a dirtbag, a commie, a shite," she says - she being her, the one, the all, the wretch. Ludwig took … Continue reading Enter the Ampersand
My wife isn't the woman she used to be. When we were younger, we traveled the world looking for transcendence. We wanted to be gods who tread the same dirt as their creations. Money wasn't an issue to us; we could always manage to find it. We backpacked Europe during the Federation Wars. We parachuted … Continue reading Salvatore Ambulando’s Detritus: Fungus Among Us
It's morning. I rise. I grab a handful of my clothes and depart the darkness of my abode. The handful smells of ashtrays and last night’s three-too-many, but I smirk with the roll of the drums and we start this day with a yummy taste of disappointment. Like every day. I wish I could have … Continue reading Salvatore Ambulando’s Detritus: A Requiem for Mr. Harrison (or Mr. Mystery’s Reflection in a Pool of Blood)
Judith, again, turning her head over her shoulder just before she disappears around the corner. It is cold, but with a tepid wind in the canyons of the greater metropolis. I can feel the wind knife around that mysterious corner, that exit from stage center, and she has disappeared into it - extant but extorted … Continue reading Day Eighteen – 15 Reasons Why the Person Next to You Will Likely Burst Into Flames
In the early hours of the fifteenth day of August, several men accosted a local doctor on the dirt road, more adequately described as a game trail during that particular season, between Harris township and Bixby's Box. The bandits, four in total, shot Dr. Malcom Renn in the throat and left him for dead in … Continue reading Day Twelve – Marzipan Cottage For Sale
This story is now available in Issue #1 of Storyfile. You can purchase a copy here.
When I was younger, long before the trauma of being devoured whole by the swamp god who protects us had worn off, I had a disturbing dream. I remember how I was situated in my makeshift bed that night. I had found a nice mossy patch to act as a pillow as I rested my … Continue reading Day Eight – The Dangers of Navigating Safety Nets With Ice Skates