Excerpts, short stories, poetry and more. Submissions welcome. 

Meringue upload

“In your case, given your family history of adaptive learning and the upthumbed status of the dead husband, a consciousness upload into a Meringue has been approved and prioritized,” he said, with a boyish look of certainty, an expectation of praise. 

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The deer wasn’t warm but close enough. A trail of blood, shit and entrails stained the edge of the frosty highway, marking the final resting place of the tangled carcass. We circled the carrion warily, Mona and I, then landed on the nearby telephone line to watch for oncoming cars and to check out the birds already assembled.

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Mona Gordon's ring

His face, already grizzled, emits a shade of gray, as he is whipped by my news. Did I know when I sold Mona Gordon’s ring that my father would feel betrayed? I don’t remember, but I guess I didn’t really consider the action from his point of view. Maybe this makes it a grander betrayal, but only if they come in different sizes, which they probably don’t. 

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