SQUATTER’S RIGHTS • by TW Williams
There was a squatter in my spot again tonight. I hate that. A body goes out and does all it can to do the job, and do it right, and comes back, bone-tired and stiff and smelling like death warmed… Continue Reading
There was a squatter in my spot again tonight. I hate that. A body goes out and does all it can to do the job, and do it right, and comes back, bone-tired and stiff and smelling like death warmed… Continue Reading
From the Editors Welcome to the final month of our second year of publication — yes, September 1st is our birthday, so August 31st concludes our second year of publication and wraps up eligibility for our 2009 anthology. We’ll be… Continue Reading
“He’s just some old cat.” The line cook overheard two men in booth number three. “It’s time for him to go.” The diner was practically empty at that hour. Only a group of drunken college kids on the far side… Continue Reading
Jack Spiegel burst into the lobby of Lobe Industries, two Keystone rent-a-cops tripping along behind him. He was at the front desk before anyone realized what was happening. “Who the hell do I have to talk to to get some… Continue Reading
Standing in the camphorous light of the station, the glowing things of civilization all around her, a single silkworm rappels delicately from the ticket kiosk. This flash of nature, incongruous, disquiets the woman. She waits for the attendant to stamp her passport… Continue Reading
I had dropped by at Harry’s second-hand bookstore, because I tend to find interesting stuff there. Harry mostly carries rare editions and collector’s items, and on occasion he has special offers. He knows what his customers like and draws their… Continue Reading
She was the third eldest of her sisters, born weeks after N’glye and Uwtn’ylh. She showed early signs of restlessness when her lava had barely cooled, by reaching out with long jetties and peninsulas. Two season cycles later, when the… Continue Reading
With the knowledge of the god he almost was, Prometheus knew his story would be told someday. With the knowledge he had of mankind, he knew it would be mistold. For all his knowledge, he did not know how it… Continue Reading
“Ramon-3”, I said to the machine, “can you use your workers to install this distributor on Ramon-4?” Ramon-3’s swiveling camera-eye looked over at me, then at the empty spot on the top of Ramon-4. “Of course I can, Andrew,” it… Continue Reading
Iris loves Fred. Fred loves Iris. After fifty years, “till death do us part” takes on new meaning. Which one gets to go first? They married young. The war injected urgency. Work hard, have kids, work harder. Iris and Fred… Continue Reading