The Science of Folly

The Science of Folly

War's end, and only a cat braves the molten fields of A—. It picks its paws delicately, quickly, so the burnished turf doesn't singe them.

The lead mouse in my pocket heats in my hand. How long before we are all three-eyed, or dead, or worse? Evolution will careen off-track from here, bowling us over, mowing us down and lifting us to satellite heights of deformity.

Born an angel, touched with prognostication demonic and utterly precise, I count: three years. Twelve weeks. The first flush of warped toddlers emerges, suckling on grossly infected teats.

If I spin the mouse six times in the air, the genome finishes. An abrupt last gasp. Nature – true nature – will take its course. The planet may yet be green again. If I let the mouse drop, well... Armies will rise like none ever seen, ever imagined.

The cat has crossed, and jumps atop rubble, stopping to lick its poor paws. I offer the wary creature the mouse. It declines.

Such intelligence doesn't deserve to witness what is to come. I break its neck after dropping the mouse.

Yellow water puddles nearby, and I sip, for the radiation martini will be all the rage soon. One in four will consume it. Of those, eight of ten will die. The other two – my brothers and sisters. We will all be angels, and I will no longer be alone.


*

Found this board on Pinterest and fell into the green abyss: Memento-Mori FYI, there are a few somewhat disturbing images, such as radiation burns. But most of it is of installations that have fallen into abandonment, first-warning radar towers, Chernobyl, and the like. 

Alien

Alien

'Twas brillig...

Alone and lonely is not a human condition only – through passing windows on the C deck, Frost could see it: In phosphorous and enameled star light, the brunt of the cosmos' joke, tumbling and dripping in a wasteland of the collective imagination.

Slithy toves, indeed, thought Frost.

"What is it?" asked Nina, peering through the clouded glass.

"Nothing," said Frost. "Isn't it beautiful?"

She nodded, and her eyes were that of a forest creature, dumb and wide. How had he once loved her so?

Hours later, in their tiny cabin, it passed through as a ghost, and in its vorpal wake, thus slept Nina, red froth and foam all around. Frost sighed, unburdened, and determined, for he had heard its silent reverberating scream.

He opened the door, mome raths skittering at his boot step. Along metal corridors he searched, calling softly, "Captain? Captain?"

And found the beamish boy at last.

*

The Jabberwocky is us, and we are it. 

In related news, I composed this thinking, over and over, Pigs In Spaaaaace!

Happy Friday, everyone.

Judith of the Lions now at 3LBE

I am very proud to announce that "Judith of the Lions" is now up at Three-Lobed Burning Eye:

3LBE -- Issue 22
3LBE publishes some stellar spec fic, and the recent issue, with only six stories, is stunning. 

The lead story, "Ladybird," is beyond fabulous. I was hooked immediately, by the voice, the imagery, and the *outstanding* story itself. Glorious, tragic fantasy about a siren who breaks the rules in search of something else, something *more* -- something even she does not quite understand. If you only read one story (er, besides mine, of course  ), read "Ladybird."

The rest of the collection is filled with intriguing, imaginative worlds. "Riding Atlas", about a young man's desperate desire to keep his girlfriend, even when she suggests something almost unthinkable, is horrifying and beautiful. It also made me squirm, but despite my discomfort, I had to keep reading. The collection is like that -- absolutely must-read to the finish.

And of course, my short story, "Judith of the Lions," appears as well. In the aftermath of a scientific experiment gone wrong, Judith struggles to understand her place -- and her kinship with a new breed. 

There's zombified lions, y'all.

Take a half hour and read all the stories in the new issue of 3LBE. For me, it was the best reading I've had in some time.

"The Pellet": new short story, available at Jake's Monthly

I found out about Jake's Monthly a bit too late, but managed to hop on board for two issues -- a couple months back with "In a Purple Sky" for the magical realism issue, and now, for the final issue:

Endgame Extravaganza

Welcome to the last issue of Jake's Monthly, chock full of stories from every genre. Thank you to editor Jake Johnson for including my origin myth/fantasy piece, "The Pellet." The issue is now up at Smashwords for your enjoyment, and it's FREE.

by liuyong

Combine

We decided to combine households but nothing in the contract said souls. So I left mine neatly wrapped in snow outside the kitchen door, and he hid his in the basement, how cliche. But when summer came and mine stood exposed, how I wished I had chosen dank and dark and spidery instead.


*

A OneWord for today.

It's October. A favorite month. How many wish their birthday was in this month? We made a fire last night and sat outside until our clothes and hair smelled like smoke. I imagined dragon eggs in the middle of the red-hot logs, because I'm geeky like that. 

Happy writing and haunting to you, little ghost-writers. 

"Only" up at 101, and Upcoming Work

It's true. I do, on occasion, write something. 

I realize my output seems slow this year, but "Only" is now available to read at John Xero's 101 Fiction:

Only
And if a hundred words aren't enough, then just wait a short while: In the upcoming month, "The Pellet" will appear at Jake's Monthly, "Itch" at the Best of Title Goes Here, and "Judith of the Lions" at Three-Lobed Burning Eye. All are short stories with enough horror and fantasy to satisfy all but you gore-festers.

"The Pellet" and "Judith of the Lions" were both nearly a year in the making. I'm very pleased with the quality of the stories, and have figured out that writing slowly and not rushing the words onto the page, along with constant editing, creates the best possible work -- by me. I can't speak for anyone else; some out there turn out brilliance in minutes.

In the meantime, I've got two other short stories that are in the final stages (which could mean another three months, LOL!). And there's the on-going book, which feels like it's already been written, but that's just because it's been in my head for a year now. 

Writing bios is hard work. None of mine are factual, by the way. Take them with a grain of salt.

See ya around the zombie pit.

"Only" at 101 Fiction

Today Only appears at 101 Fiction. Thank you, editor John Xero.

If you happen to like a hundred melancholic words with your tea, then sip away.

*

 by Simon Walker

I try to remember this. For even if I look put together and serene, I am in the midst of turmoil. If the invisible ghosts of our psyche would dissipate in summer sun, all at once, the world would turn more slowly, and none of us would be in danger of falling off.

If you're fighting a hard battle today, may you persevere, may you be victorious, may you fill your mouth with sweet things.

xx

RS