An excerpt… When Kate opened the cabinet doors she saw nothing but pineapple, can after can of pineapple. She had been there the week before dropping off her mother’s dry cleaning, but she didn’t think…
Browsing Category Fiction
Dead Languages
The last known speakers of American English were garbage men. In a rural county of Ohio they worked sorting trash for a nanoshuffler that emitted ozone and vitamin gas. They spoke normally elsewhere, but since…
Open House
Featured Fiction by Mary Milstead: from Portland Review, Volume 54, No. 2 Louise Melroy was sitting in her green easy chair, leaning back, her slippered feet resting on the ottoman. She had a glass of…
Beaches, Death, and Public Toilets by James Reinebold
Hell is a Venice Beach public restroom. It is dark and covered with the writings of a rambling madman scribbled in neon orange paint. A thick green sludge lives on the floor and can never…