Daddy’s Favorite: A Short Story About Siblings and Deception

Sean was ten when it happened. It was a memory that he swallowed. Instead of passing through him, it became another heart. It was there, alert and active, with him always. He thought this obsession, his acceptance of his father’s worst moment along with his commitment to remembering it, was proof he loved Daddy most. Julia was appalled when Sean told her that theory one drunken Memorial Day. It had been a long and lazy weekend, so unlike how they usually spent their time. Sean had gotten too comfortable. Immediately after he spoke, he regretted it. Julia, it was apparent, had not kept the memory close. Instead, she had ejected it from her body like vomit, expelling all traces.

Metallic Realms: An Excerpt from Lincoln Michel’s New Novel

Dear reader, gird yourself. These pages aren’t mere paper but a portal to (arguably) one of the greatest achievements in science fiction imagination of the twenty-first century in any subgenre, language, or artistic medium. As a fan, I quake with jealousy. I wish I too were freshly encountering the manifold wonders of The Star Rot Chronicles. The ensuing tales are apt to sear into your mind more powerfully than most milestones of so-called “real life.” I close my eyes — here in this cold basement where I compose these notes — and scenes appear as films projected upon the insides of my eyelids. The escape from the solar whale! The great war of the Adamites! The chilling return of — Oh, I must stop myself.

Underground Cinema: A Short Story About Love and Death

It’s elsewhere, you know, the world, we’re over here, he said, and it’s over there, it’s over the crest of that — is it a hill, yes, it’s most likely a hill, all the tell-tale signs, all the horrific giveaways, of a hill, there’s no element in nature more embarrassing than a hill, I’ve always had this feeling, he said, that 98% of natural phenomena, at least, are essentially failures, a hill is a failed mountain, he said, a lake is a failed sea, a shrub is a failed tree, a mouse is a failed rat, a dog is a failed wolf, a cat is a failed lynx, a stone is a failed cliff, snow is failed water, water is failed sun . . .

Tiny: A Short Story About Brothers and Betrayal

It was a bad break, a slip and then a tumble. Denny had been jogging (jogging!) for the first time in what felt like ever, trying to be healthy now that he’d turned thirty. Middle age was coming. So was the pothole right off Fillmore on the nice block of Marine Parkway, with all those houses he’d dreamed of selling, hoping to jumpstart his middling realty career. Maybe his eyes were on the good roofing and that’s why he planted awkward, landing strange on his ankle, turned it, heard the snap, and if he’d been in any state of mind to pick his (never specified) emergency contact he would have gone for his stalwart older brother Jim. But instead, due to proximity, it was Tiny.

April Fools: A Short Story About Adolescence and Suicide

The boy died on the first of April, so the police were slow to respond. The first of April was a big day for false alarms. My mother worked dispatch for Alachua and fielded all the calls. Every year, she listened to teenagers report cases of mammoth erections and spontaneous combustion. Maybe twice a decade, a kid would do something inventive with bath salts and launch himself into juvie. But most of the calls were total jokes. Still, my mother’s job was to send the police like a good little Samaritan. Her officers quickly stretched thin. That year, a representative from the department stopped by our school to speak over the intercom about making smart choices on April Fools’ Day.