Plugs

Trent Walters, poetry editor at A&A, has a chapbook, Learning the Ropes, from Morpo Press.

Angela Slatter’s story ‘Frozen’ will appear in the December 09 issue of Doorways Magazine, and ‘The Girl with No Hands’ will appear in the next issue of Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet.

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

Alex Dally MacFarlane’s story “The Devonshire Arms” is available online at Clarkesworld.

We Are Siamese If You Don’t Please

by SaraG

“Ooooh prettty,” the leprechaun sighed. The garden gnome hushed him
and reasserted his grip on the leprechaun’s arm. The bar was noisy,
there was a chance Pandora hadn’t heard but if the other one kept this
up someone was bound to notice.

The tie of invisibility was knotted around both their necks. As long
as they stayed bound together nobody could see them. Albert felt like
the smart sibling of a pair of Siamese twins, being dragged around by the
leprechaun. It had been the leprechaun’s idea to come to the bar to
stare up girls’ minis and the gnome had agreed thanks to a few glasses
of whisky. Besides, there had to be some advantage to being a
foot tall.

Albert was terrified of being caught. It wasn’t like him to go off on
some undignified panty quest and the leprechaun gave new meaning to
the term ADHD. Disaster was imminent and the gnome wished he were
outta here, preferably with his reputation intact.

“Preeety.” The leprechaun looked blatantly up Pandora’s legs. The girl
took a step back and stared at the floor in their general direction.

For a second, Albert wondered whether she could see them, but her
pupils scanned the space in front of them without focusing and the
gnome relaxed.

Pandora’s confused look turned into a smile that made the gnome feel
like ice-cubes clinking down his back. She opened her purse and
extracted a pearl, twirled it around her fingers and tossed it on the
floor.

The leprechaun gasped and the pearl erupted into a lily, which
blossomed and morphed into a white rose.

“Oh!” The leprechaun shouted and leaped off, yanking the tie away from
Albert and leaving him exposed.

“Sorry Miss.” The gnome blushed, tipped his red cap at her and ran.

Three blocks away, he turned around to look. All that was left of the
bar was a mushroom cloud, red with white dots on the top, a typical
Amanita. From where he was, he could still hear Pandora’s mad cackle.

Be Sociable, Share!

2 Responses to “We Are Siamese If You Don’t Please”

  1. jop Says:

    June 20th, 2007 at 12:30 pm

    2 mad cackles 2 days in a row!

  2. Sara Genge Says:

    June 20th, 2007 at 9:42 pm

    Glad you liked it