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Riding Atlas

by on Jan 8, 2016 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

5,000 Words They were naked, now, on a dirty mattress. “Neither of you have eaten or drunk anything for twenty-four hours?” Ryan asked, hauling equipment into the room: sloshing plastic buckets, packs of hypodermic needles, coils of tubing, straps. “And no drugs in your system? This is a...

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The Cultist’s Son

by on Apr 1, 2014 in Short Fiction | 5 comments

3800 Words “I used to think the sky would peel open,” the girl with the green hair confesses, curling black–nailed fingers around a can of Pabst. “I always had bloody knees, because I never looked down when I walked — I’d clasp my eyes to the sky, bracing myself for the sight of a...

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