FICTION
“Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth.”
It was spring and the hills were irradient, like they had to get out all their green in one short burst before catching fire.
The most entertaining thing about Miguel is that when he was 13 he dislocated his shoulder playing basketball and can now pop it in and out of place. There is nothing particularly interesting about Miguel.
“The woman was a catastrophe,” Carlos told me at the time. “But she was as honest as my face is ugly.”
and on and on and on and on they ran, the Merry Men, running from a hundred and one arrows bought with taxes stolen twice over…
Mama sped along the highway, unbothered by bits of gravel that flew up from the front tires and struck the windshield of the sedan.
A tortured simper uncoils itself across my mouth as I open another bottle of Penis wine.
I pushed my nose to within an inch from the rug. I sniffed, and sniffed, and I smelled something…not quite right, but I couldn’t place it.
Directly after the arrival of the Armada, this model made sense, as the gap between Unthulanian and Human cultures prevented a commensurable exchange of practices…
To be encased, Clint had always thought, was foolishness. Why allow yourself to be open to such sorrow?
When I was on earth I was a pretty good kid. I only got drunk when I needed to get drunk.
I reached for my invoice, which Dr. George, holding it between thumb and forefinger as if it were a soiled diaper, dropped into my hand.
My new neighbor is making a violin from a cigar box. He got the cigar box from a guard. The guard, presumably, got it from outside the Fence.
When Laika the space dog comes back, bulleted to earth in a tiny white escape pod that dissolves upon opening, nobody can believe it.
At the end of the meeting, the villagers agreed to contribute shillings and pounds to sponsor Elochi to a university in America.
Share some abandon.
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