Circular 2/8/20

PROSE From Concentric Magazine: Infinity by David Landrum. Though the story could use another proofreading, the narrative—concerning two young lovers who endeavour to navigate their families' divergent faiths—is thoroughly arresting. The meal would be an examination. Like in school, I was being graded. (Landrum, Infinity) § From Fictive Dream: To The Maxx by Thaddeus Rutkowski.… Continue reading Circular 2/8/20

The Silence & The Howl (§.30)

continued from chapter 29 CHAPTER 30 Harmon pocketed a tangerine and ambled out of Harold's cramped apartment. The early morning chill prompted the man to sheath his hands in his jacket pockets whereupon he felt paper and paused beside a group of vagrants along the road to the old breaker. With furrowed brow and pursed… Continue reading The Silence & The Howl (§.30)

Burn

Life is slow here in a border town where lazy palms scantly twitch in dead breezes— dry and pollen-choked. Everywhere. Nowhere. Cattle, brown against my hand and an expanse of cloudless blue, meander aimlessly, chewing cud that never quite hits the spot. Their eyes, like minds— blank— close to things made new by the blessing… Continue reading Burn

Little Deaths

We implode— explode— in raptures of liquid light that set the skin to sizzle on the spit like slow-cooked meat, pulled apart in greedy clutches, peeling skin from skin, limb from limb, sinew from bone until all is gone, fallen away in shreds and trickles. Tongues prodding, hungrily, for the taste of coppery bliss of… Continue reading Little Deaths

The Silence & The Howl (§.26)

§.26 The four conversants sat in the far right corner of the cafe, the mechanical whirring of the fan and the clinking of cups, paper and plastic, and the skidding of heeled-polymer upon the linoleum floor, the only sounds, save the occassional puff of a cigarette or cigar. With a broad smile, La'Far broke the… Continue reading The Silence & The Howl (§.26)

The Machine Of Wester Moorley (§.05)

§.05 Albrecht was confident the statue he spied through the window of the school was that which rested in his coat pocket. He strode up the porch and tried the handle. Unlocked. Drawn by curiosity the man pressed within and looked around with slight trepidation. The school, Albrecht surmised, had formerly been a saloon, for… Continue reading The Machine Of Wester Moorley (§.05)

The Machine Of Wester Moorley (§.04)

§.04 Otto went to fill up his rusty autowagon for the drive out to the nowheres, leaving Albrecht by his lonesome outside the dingy lifeless building that served as the townhall. While he waited for Otto, Albrecht thought he might stretch his legs and have a look around town and turned of its porch of… Continue reading The Machine Of Wester Moorley (§.04)