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Fiction

THE SAL MINEO PRESERVATION SOCIETY

by Albert Mobilio

Fiction

A brutal cold had shouldered away any vestige of sunnier days as Mink hunkered down at what he judged to be the river’s edge. Snow so deep, he couldn’t tell. Holding a three-foot length of rusted pipe, a faucetless spigot at one end, he began spearing the base of a snowy crest. To cook up his blood, Mink imagined himself a Klondike prospector atop the motherlode, then for some rhythm he took on the bearing of a railroad pile driver. But neither proved an icebreaker, so he dug inside the skin of an Ice Age hunter desperate for a scrap of fish. He stabbed wildly at the same rust-streaked hole in the drift, his jagged, guttural howl quickly torn to whispers by the turbulent mountain draft.

According to YJ, The Origin of the Long Island City Kinoclub

by Eugene Lim

Fiction

Earlier, when we were younger, we were best friends and, for a night, lovers. It was difficult because he was straight and liked girl-next-door types and I was basically appalled but we weren’t boogie so we could do it but it was, frankly, bogus, just to wild out. But even before that I was his cinematographer. He gave me minimal direction, but got what he wanted. Or, he seemed satisfied with what I gave him. We made eleven pictures together and a thousand side projects, experiments.

Frank

by R.M. Berry

Fiction

Why did this nightmare continue? Nothing held the slightest allure for me, but I was incapable of rest. Often I thought of the grave and might have purchased a how-to book on mercy killing, had the thought of reading it not been too painful. How I longed to evaporate! But at the same time I was also filled with an infuriating resolve. It was as though no remnant of me persisted, neither lust nor repulsion, soul nor bone, except this conviction, deep in my sinews, that with such a balked outcome I could not yet be over. As my restiveness became more and more intolerable, I decided to entrust my father’s mansion to a real estate agent, liquidate all my family’s possessions and, depositing my assets with a former Andy Young campaign worker, a successful banker now, set out to travel—or perhaps merely to wander, since I had neither origin nor destination.

Instructions for Sebastian

by Angela Fajardo

Fiction

Please indulge privacy. Accidentally forget to set the alarm clock or blame your ignorance: Due to recently purchased waking-up mechanisms, I’ve been able to continue my sequence of dreaming until done, thank you for your understanding, sincerely yours, you or me. Place yourself in a comfortable position. Be careful not to intrude on your companion’s comfort. Visualize all your possible to do lists.