Plugs

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

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.

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

Read Rudi’s story “Detail from a Painting by Hieronymus Bosch” at Behind the Wainscot.

Archive for the ‘Authors’ Category

Jana’s World

Monday, November 3rd, 2008

When

* Jana made the world she used her grandmother’s favorite bowl.

* Carson unlocked his office door he knew right away something was wrong.

* Some of the mixture slopped onto the floor, Jana wiped it up with a rag.

* Carson saw the mixing bowl he noticed right away that it was dirty.

* She put the pan in the oven Jana saw the dishrag burning with an enduring flame.

* Carson touched the bowl he heard a symphony of dissonance. He saw it too. And smelt
it.

* Jana emptied the trash she put the can out by the curb.

* Carson wiped his hands on his sweater he felt light-headed.

* Jana heard the timer go off she was on the phone.

* Carson started typing he seemed to be all thumbs.

* Jana took the pan out the world was a little crispy around the edges.

* Carson looked out the window everything seemed to be getting dark. Except at the
horizon, where it was even darker.

* Jana turned the world onto a board she set it out to cool.

* Carson looked up from the computer he smelled a peculiar odor.

* Jana looked around she could not find the mixing bowl.

* Carson made to leave he wondered what was for supper. And whether it had been burned.

* Jana saw the time she ordered takeout.

* Carson got home his dinner was waiting, made just the way he liked it.

After supper

* Jana remembered the world.

* A crow had snatched it from the window sill.

* Carson was disappointed there was no dessert.

The end

Why He Didn’t Call

Friday, October 31st, 2008

“What have I become?” I asked myself in the mirror, but it was the moonlight that answered. It showed me my new sharp teeth and fur-rimmed eyes.

I thought I would be scared. I didn’t expect to feel such relief. Tonight, no fluorescent lights; no cubicles with strange toys poking over the top, peering humorously into the next gray box over; no tired Friday jokes; no dates with someone who would rather I was a manager. No date tonight.

I watched myself forget how to use a cell phone–with these paws I couldn’t have called her anyway.

Hello, moon.

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