Plugs

Kat Beyer has just illustrated a new children's book, The Poet's Journey, by Amirthi Mohanraj.

Read Rudi's story "Detail from a Painting by Hieronymus Bosch" at Behind the Wainscot.

"Drowning Atlantis" is a collection of new flash fiction by David Kopaska-Merkel, published by spechouseofpoetry.com.

Sara Genge's "story Godtouched" may be found in Strange Horizons.

Luc Reid's book Talk the Talk: The Slang of 65 American Subcultures is in bookstores now and is full of odd insights.

Jeremiah's latest story is "Captain Blood's B00ty" appears in Shimmer Magazine and can be read online here.

Edd Vick's latest, "Reb the First" may be found at Jim Baen's Universe.

Trent Walters has a poetry chapbook, Learning the Ropes, forthcoming from Morpo Press

Alex D M's latest story is "Jumping over the Moon" in Sporty Spec: Games of the Fantastic

Read Daniel Braum's story siteMystic Tryst at .

Ken Brady's most recent story "Tagging" can be read at Darker Matter.

Jason Fischer has a story appearing in Jack Dann's new anthology Dreaming Again.

Susannah Mandel's columns in Strange Horizons on the fantastic in classic literature can be found here.

Angela’s story ‘The Jacaranda Wife’ is appearing in Dreaming Again, and ‘The Hummingbird Heart’ is in the new Shimmer.

Jason Erik Lundberg's latest book (co-edited with Janet Chui), A Field Guide to Surreal Botany, has just been released, and can be ordered at SurrealBotany.net.

Jonathan is now co-editor of Behind The Wainscot.

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A Sandwich Shop in Chicago, 1 AM

by Jeremiah Tolbert

The door of the sandwich shop blew open in the harsh Chicago wind. Something darted, low to the floor, through the gap and inside. James couldn't make out the blur of the shape, but it had four legs. A small cat or dog. It happened sometimes. Strays took shelter wherever they could from the cold winter. His boss had once found a raccoon in the backroom near the bread ovens.

"Shit, what was that?" said Toby. James was supposed to be training Toby on the register, but it was too cold for customers.

"Dunno," James said.

"It ran behind the drinks into the corner," Toby said. "You want me to go kill it?"

"No way," James said. "I've got seniority. I'll get it." He stretched yellow rubber gloves that they used when cleaning the baking sheets over his hands and lower arms. Armed himself with a broom, and opened the half-door out in the lobby. He approached the corner cautiously.

"Damn, man, I hope it don' have rabies or nothing," said Toby.

A small silver and brown dog was curled up between the wall and the drink fountain. It looked strange, stretched out and longer than any dog James had ever seen. There was blood, from some unseen wound.

"Please don't kill me," it said. "I'll be dead soon enough without your help."

"Why did you come in here?" James asked.

"It's just some dumbass dog, it can't answer you," Toby said from over James' shoulder. James didn't take his eyes off the coyote.

"I want what everyone wants," it said.

"What does everyone want?"

"To get high," Toby said, wandering back to the register. "And for their shift to end."

"To not die alone," said the coyote.

"I could call a vet or something," James said.

"Just push it out onto the sidewalk, it looks all fucked up anyway," Toby said.

"It's too late for that," it said. "Please."

James crouched down beside it. Its eyes were the same color of the gloves. Brilliant yellow, like sunflowers. He reached out to pet the coyote's fur. It whimpered softly.

"Can I leave early?" Toby asked.

"Yeah," James said without moving. "Leave whenever you want. I'll stay here."

The coyote closed its eyes. Toby clocked out.