Fiction
Gushers
“I get why they call them gushers now,” he said as he watched me red-handed, blood collecting carefully in the cup of my palms like I was trying to keep something alive in there.
Key Change
Buddy drives and I ride shotgun. We ride in a ramshackle van with busted fenders and peeling paint, the kind of vehicle that inspires parents to hold their kids tight when it staggers too close on the street.
Facewine Culture
It’s Thursday the best day and the weekend lies before us flirtatious and coy toying with the edge of its skirt, ready to reveal anything.
Humor
I Hadn’t Prepared Any Remarks
My word, this is just—this is just such a surprise. Hand to God, I didn’t prepare at all for this. Not a lick.
The Voice of AHOY
One day there is nothing and the next, suddenly, there it is: the voice, ringing through my head like a foghorn across ocean waters.
Partially Naked Came the Corpse, Pt. 11
It couldn’t be escaped: as the Blonde stood over the apparently quite human corpse of one Beau Toledo as it was being brutally dismembered by a surprisingly coordinated collaboration of robots, she considered that she might just be the most obtuse flaxen-haired individual at the All-Star Annually Convening Cozy Detectives Club after all.
