The bullet strikes me in the lower abdomen as I’m climbing the stairs. If it was a normal bullet, it wouldn’t be lethal. But normal bullets haven’t been used in years. The bullet disassembles in my gut, splitting into millions of microscopic machines. The nanobots move from cell to cell like a cancer, ripping me […]
Fiction: The Profound Pumpkin by Ryan Tan
I held the pumpkin while Xavier drew. Two diamonds for eyes, a semicircle for a mouth, and an egg-shaped nose. “Great job,” I said. He beamed. I nodded to the facilitator, a bespectacled brunette in her twenties. She came over and handed me a serrated knife. “Call me if you need help.” I thanked her. […]
Fiction: Zabrina’s Madness
The townspeople knew when to avoid Zabrina. Her body, she would murmur, was a bundle of sharp sticks slowly splitting her skin. A darkness that was unnatural by some accounts. She would sleep in the mornings, which was, of course, the devil’s hour of rest. Unfinished hems of dresses were scattered about the floor of […]
Fiction: Francis Street
It’s just a street, a city street. There’s no reason for him to be buttonholing strangers, grabbing their arms, saying, Don’t you see? And of course he doesn’t. But he must be imploring them with his eyes, because they keep veering away, a young woman in a gauzy white dress even crossing against traffic […]