My very short and non-Luisa-May-Alcott-related short story, “Little Woman” is in the seventeenth annual issue of upstreet literary magazine. upstreet
Tag Archives: Fiction
Mars Rover Diary Excerpt: Sol 1022-1027
My unauthorized story about the inner life of a Mars rover is in the first edition of The Antihumanist: https://theantihumanists.com/2021/06/26/1st-edition/ The issue is full of funny, thought-provoking stories, a combination I always strive for.
My shtick had admittedly gotten stale. I would say, “Hello! Woooo-oooop!” Then I would sway from side to side, rub my beak on my perch and say, “Whadaya mean, crazy?” Bodean got a kick out of that the first, oh, ten times I did it. But still, what a fuss they made over that cat.Continue reading “Polly”
A Fresh Start
The bees were getting restless. They had been waiting for over an hour for the humans to arrive, and they began eyeing the pretty yellow meadow flowers. “Couldn’t we …” began Fluzz, “… I mean it seems stupid to sit around doing nothing … couldn’t we collect some nectar while we wait?” Guzz had beenContinue reading “A Fresh Start”
The sideshow acts had been run-of-the-mill. I saw a bearded lady and a man who ate glass. At the end of a line of tents sat one with no sign. The barker invited me in and I asked what I would see. “Something that must be seen to be believed.”
“Bartleby’s Preference” at Crack the Spine
Yuri led an ordered life. He woke up at 7 am, and his breakfast always included half a grapefruit eaten with a serrated spoon. It took him 12½ minutes to bike to his job as a network security consultant and 13½ minutes to bike back (he lived uphill). The hour before bedtime was spent readingContinue reading ““Bartleby’s Preference” at Crack the Spine”
“The Meditations of Fra Colleoni” at Gravel
“But does it work?” Dr. Seaver leaned back in his chair and blew on his mug of instant soup. The steam fogged his glasses. “Of course not. It’s just a thought experiment.” “Oh,” I said, picking up a doohickey on the professor’s desk. “Of course.” The doohickey, or maybe gizmo is a better word, hadContinue reading ““The Meditations of Fra Colleoni” at Gravel”
Thunder in the Distance
The rumbling started yesterday afternoon, just a little while after I arrived. Within the space of a few minutes the house got dark, but Grandma didn’t seem to notice anything until she saw the clouds in my eyes.
Every day Jerry started writing a new novel in the hope that the next day he would find his efforts worthy enough to continue. This never happened. Yesterday’s writing was always Yesterday’s Writing, old and dull and foreign from the new day’s line of thinking. He had been a salesman for thirty-five years, and heContinue reading “The Briefcase”
I woke up about the time the steady thrum of the highway changed to the crackle of gravel. I pressed my forehead to the car window, hoping the nausea would pass away quickly. I started to roll down my window but mom cried out in alarm. “Close that! It’s too dusty!”