When I signed on to curate a fiction-exclusive issue, I was a bit worried that I might encounter some monotony; I couldn’t have been more wrong. Each of these stories is brimming with life in a different kind of way.
The Fiction Issue
You were staring at my ass, weren’t you?
I was sitting on the sofa with a mean frown on my face and my lower lip stuck out. I was pouting, but not in that sad cry baby girl way. I was a tomboy, so I pouted mean.
It’s hard to come down without being seen from a flight through the clouds on the back of an albino dragon.
… we counsel you take up the rifle against the undead which plague our town. Clawing up from the muddy ground in Spring, these ravaged men, women, and alas, children, have overrun the churchyard…
Soon we were dancing and then we were embracing and I was touching his body with all the pent up desire of our almost twenty-year affair of the heart.
You know what it is, said his friend, with all the gravitas of an EMS worker at an accident scene: It’s because she has a father. She loves her father too much.
As a marketing copywriter, my greatest talent is my ability to uncover my client’s story and communicate it in a compelling manner, no matter how boring.
The gem seemed at first to be a kind of mirage. It stuck out of the ground, the size of a sleeping mule, and Nehemiah and his son stood over it, tilting their heads to see the infinite varieties of iridescence.
An ape walks down the street, dragging his intestines behind him. They leave wet streak marks on the sidewalk.
Our office has reviewed, with careful attention, your recent fifty-seven page e-mail regarding the adverse determination made by the IRS Office with respect to your Application for Recognition of Exemption on behalf of the Church of Universal Entropy, of which you are sole founder.
It was said that a new zombie had appeared on the sea-front: a lady with a little dog.
I was scrolling Facebook when I came across a friend’s post expressing their condolences for a friend who recently died. I wasn’t friends with the deceased, but a link to his Facebook page was in the post. His name was Brad.
Finally, after our successful crowdfunding campaign to keep Scintilla going another year, I’ve sat down with Anton Chekhov and we’ve written two zombie mashups.
First, thank you, Daniel, for taking on the issue, owning it, and creating something with your own editorial sense.