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

Daniel Braum will be reading at the Fantastic Fiction reading series at on January 19th 2007. Hear his short story Across the Darien Gap at Pseudopod.

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.

« The End of the Mission | Main | Stones without Sticks »

Aftercall

by Edd Vick

His dead wife called Parnell in their bedroom at 3 PM precisely.

"Hi, honey," she said. "Is this a good time to talk?"

"Beulah." He felt with one hand behind him for the bed, then sat on it.

"If it's--"

"No, it's fine. You just caught me off guard, that's all."

"I--" She laughed. "I don't have a good reason for calling, I just missed you."

He knew she was a computer program, a clever artificial intelligence, a last gift from Bee. "I miss you," he said.

"How did you sleep last night?"

He transferred the phone from one hand to the other. "The doctor gave me something," he finally admitted.

"Be careful," she said at once. "Don't overdo sleeping pills."

"I won't." It really was like having her back, hectoring tone and all. "I just don't know what to do. After being married for thirty years I'm not sure how to go on."

"That's why I'm here." There were sounds: a chair scraping across a floor, paper rustling. "I was going to keep this first call light, not say anything. But I'm worried about you." She cleared her throat, he imagined her adjusting her bifocals. "Now, the lawyer will read the will on Thursday. I've left everything to you except one small insurance policy for my niece. Be sure to ask for six certified copies of the death certificate."

"Should I take notes?"

"No," she said. "I'll send you an email message."

Blinking, he reached out to touch the pillow she'd used so recently. "You're very resourceful. What next?"

"Sixty two percent of widowers lose the bulk of their inheritance within two years," she said. "What you need to do is invest your money well."

"Invest? I'm almost fifty." Couldn't he splurge? Live a little?

"Yes. Find a good fund, something well diversified. Do try to leave the principal untouched. Oh, and make sure they invest in Aftercall."

Par pulled the phone away from his ear, looked at it. Tentatively, he put it back against his ear. "That-- that's you, isn't it?"

"Oh no," she said, her voice losing a bit of Bee's timbre. "I'm a simulation of your wife, designed to aid you in these trying times. But I ought to mention that Beulah chose to purchase the basic service, which includes adware. You may upgrade at any time--" And here the full depth and character of his wife's voice returned. "But I don't recommend it. Save your money, dear."


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