McDonaldsson Publishing LLC Hattie Bloomberg, Editor 1336 N. Norbert Ln (555) 555-0202 hattiebl0om999@mdpc.com February 15, 2093 Dear Ms. Herrera It is with heavy regret that we have to reject your manuscript, Tempeh Toddy: A BBQ Book of Regretful Meals Made While Drunk (a Satirical Memoir of My Mistakes). While well written, it is not the best fit for McDonaldsson Publishing. Best of luck in your future publication endea...

Smooth jazz played low from the vintage jukebox in her office. She was typing up the last of her report from her last case when she heard the bell on the door chime. Blair Kierkessen looked up and saw with her so brown they were black eyes, a woman in a blue evening gown and white fur stole. Her brow furrowing her perfect line-less face. “Detective Kierkessen?” “That’s correct, how can I help you?” “My name is Zelda Chamb...

A Professor enters his Philosophy class with unexpected supplies for this lecture. He has a chicken, a time machine, and a hotplate. “Professor, what is all that for?” a student asks. “Today’s Lecture is Going to be about the Concept of Time. Observe!” The professor then proceeds to put the chicken into the time machine and turns the dial back. For what felt like seconds later for them at least, years had passed for the c...

In the beginning was a box (bought wholesale at the flea circus gift shop) inside that box was a world. Outside that box were instructions: (be quiet, pay attention) __ Unwrap box along the perforated edge in the plastic provided for your convenience. Discard wrapping in recycling bin. Grab sharp utensil. stab holes inside the veil of the world. (This is so it can breathe. creation makes many beings, and worlds quite gass...

Mitzy was poking her peas around the plate one night at dinner. Her parents exchanged a look, silently asking the other which one of them would ask their daughter what was going on first, like an invisible game of rock paper scissors, before one of her fathers cleared his throat. “You got a grievance with the peas? You are moving them around your plate with an air of disinterest and I thought they were your most favorite...

The klaxon alarm that heralded the evacuation of Terra Prime still haunts my dreams. Even though I am a safe colonist on Lunar Prime. The desolate floating of everything on this rock feels like the primal birth of something voidal, gaping, and incessant. Like a fly buzzing just on the outside of your perception barrier. Taunting and also easy to dismiss with enough distraction. The trouble is, distractions like food ratio...

It smelled like winter and smoked meat outside as a gray curtain of clouds shimmered across the naked night sky to veil the waning moon. “You need to relax and trust the process or it won’t work” “I’m trying to, honest!” “ I didn’t say ‘try’, I said ‘trust’. That means it's a surrender of will, not the enforcing of it.” "Fine." "All things have a sentience and a will. That includes the ability to trust or not. Magic is a...

“I want to be a demon,” the Nephilim said, “Even if I have to barter my wings for horns and a tail. I want to be a demon.” The priest furrowed his brow as he heard the confession, "Your lineage is half Divine, why would you give that up to be beyond the reach of redemption?” “Because demons have fun. They enjoy their existence. Not all about duty and sacrifice. If that’s my only legacy, then my duty to myself is to sacrif...

Haversack abandoned White birch tree grove Nevermind that my heart never drove so far from home Than when I set my sights on you. Ate eight grapes to forsake the forgiveness in your shade Petty grandstanding bastard Love-child-having, cutthroat stallion Your reins are better as a gallows rope You told me you loved me Even though you wanted me to repeat it back reciprocal My spirit cringed So I said ‘nope’ And walked away...

Heaven repents from the cell I put you in My beautiful soul Does it hurt to trust me again? Is that why you keep me so afraid to begin…. …anything? Heaven Repents from the cell I put you in And Hell mourns the loss of your company The comforting swagger of your apathy Can you hear the horsemen pleading for your return? Heaven repents and Hell mourns But Earth? Earth hardly notices your return. What is a body but another c...

Gardens are generally understood to be neutral ground. For all. Mortals. Immortals. Mankind and Monsters. Why else would so many myths feature them? Cannot get any more neutral than Nature. But what makes one a monster or a man? Why is mortality a thing at all? Why aren’t we all immortal? It seems unfair, doesn’t it? Well, it's designed to. And before you judge the poor mortal woman of Abrahamic legend. It wasn’t her faul...

“Reality is a cruel mistress and Fantasy is a kind one. The more I learn of myself the more fictional I feel. As if I am their love child, named Delusion, with an astral twin, named Dissociation. The Gemini of the Cosmic Zodiac, only one of us has the temper of a Taur... the other as aquatic as a Scorpion. Inhaling the vapors, Gemini caught a vision -- of the fall of Man. It began with a Fish. Got too lost playing with a...

Sorrow eats the worm at the bottom of the bottle with a kind of parasitic fermentation that now poisons the mind into thinking they are free that they have control over their life that they are whole as long as they keep drinking as long as they keep drinking as long as they keep drinking as long as they... ... Hey! Bartender, pour me another?

“Of all the carnal powers; and the blessings of the Shrove of Man; Grant me this small mercy. By the Saints and martyrs - beyond, before, within my blood rite, and without. Guard and protect my soul tonight. I ask all this as your humble servant. E Nomine Patri. Et Fili. E Spiritu Sancti. Amen.” As the prayer was uttered, the flame flickered. Once the seal was said, the flame was hushed into smoke. William got up from his...

The air was sweet, heavy with the scent of ripe, cloying fruit. The sound of buzzing near the pomegranates that swayed and hung low in the heat was distracting me enough that the woman’s pulse thudded against mine, the salt of her blood splashed its way down my throat like stolen refugees running for asylum in the new land of a foreigners body, was background noise to the glare of the sun. It felt like my pores were squin...