In a collapsed hall, an echoing crunch truncates panicked screaming. Later, a wrinkled sheet of parchment skips corner over corner across the heaving stones of an empty plaza, catching on a clattering stand of dry stalks rising from a russet mound that was once a fighting machine. The bones of its soldiers were scavenged long […]
A teenager’s in line for coffee ahead of a pushy man in a suit, but what’s served up is more than the cappuccino he ordered. Published in Bourbon Penn #23, March 2021.
Collection includes: Beetle in her Pocket, Flip Side, Waiting for the Trustafarian Migration, Baksheesh, Alpaca Lips, Sparkly Thing, The Slow Rise of Foreign Bodies, Meat for Skritches, Dwindling Topographies, Milk and Cookies, and Last Dance.
Tyler was watching a sitcom in the trailer’s breakfast nook, petting the purring furnace that was Skritches in his lap, when the power went out for good . . .
This drabble is a little horror show. I wrote it because well, darkness, and also I can’t help myself with Dad joke caliber wordplay. It’s a compulsion, and sometimes if you’re note careful compulsions can be kindapocalyptic. Check it out here.
