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Fiction

READ THE SNOW

It tastes like this, he says, try it. He swallows more hotel pool water.

Three Stories

I wasn’t bothered by the strangers who were carving hieroglyphics into my carpet with their cigarettes. My two social circles were mixing swimmingly and that was all that mattered.

You Are Where I Am Not

I am not a real person. I am only words on paper. A narrator. A narrator of the first person variety. An invention. A fake. Or, if you prefer, an illusion.

Identity Theft

While you read this your identity is being stolen, has been stolen. Before you were confident in who you were: you were yourself; before you were confident in who others were: they were themselves. You could not be them; they could not be you. Or so you thought until now when, you find, someone has broken the rules.

FROM A SUBARU FORESTER (novel fragment)

My new best friend had flown to Germany. Once again, the lure of the cash-stuffed envelope had proved irresistible.

Reruns Rezoomed: A Serial Novel

All else failing, Jack drives to Maine in the hope of separating Molly from her kidnappers. En route, he is latched onto by a beautiful, predatory extra-terrestial named Mary who wants him to father her child. An auto accident in which Mary is nearly killed causes an apparent change of heart in Jack’s seeming heartless companion.

Tragic Strip

The Inspiration That Made a Sculpture Garden Out of "The Insult That Made a Man Out of 'Mac'."

Asalto Navideño

Every year people die, get crippled, or suffer deformities at Christmas. This year alone the cops nabbed twenty-seven tons of contraband fireworks, and more than three hundred people burned to death from those that got through. Mostly kids.

Identity Crisis

Ramón Antonio Jaramillo looked through Estrecho’s cemeteries, but had yet to find his grave. Until he did, he couldn’t prove that he didn’t die on Christmas Eve eleven years before.

Hurto Revertido

Greed will kill you.

Contours: An excerpt from Vanishing Acts: A Tragedy

Flapping his arms in widening, counter-clockwise circles, Richard Melville finds he can fly. It isn’t really flying, though, more like some suspended animation catapult.

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JUNE 2009

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