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Last updateTue, 06 Aug 2013 2am

April 2011: Resurrection

April 2011: Resurrection

Birthday Boy - Jay Slayton-Joslin gives us a story where a life begins and ends at the same time

Another Castle - Nicholas Merlin Karpuk weaves a tale of 8-bit, two-fisted action

Head Rush - Stephen Conley tells the tale of a man who discovers something worth fighting for

Fuck if I Know Jesus - DB Cox shows you a man, a room, and the weight of the world

Nice Lipstick - Nikki Guerlain throws you headfirst into a fever dream

My Brief Empyrean Sojourn - edward j rathke follows two friends on the threshold of life

Paradoxical Ink - Patrick Verhagen spies on life in the cubicles, small victories and huge setbacks

 

All of the photos for the April issue were provided by Amanda Gowin

Saturday, 02 April 2011 20:13

Fuck If I Know Jesus

Written by

T.J. Lake is forty-eight, and he’s burnt out—nothing left except a longing to be done.

T.J. is lying in bed staring up at a motionless ceiling fan. He has been stretched out here since early this morning trying to conjure a reason to move.

Things are screwed up—have been for a long while now. T.J. is now ready to own up to the crimes that have left him here—ready to admit how at each crossroads, he chose this way, toward this place.

Saturday, 02 April 2011 20:12

Birthday Boy

Written by

“I wake up in a field; I am a young adult, again. Although I feel as if I have just been born. I stand and am amazed by the world around me. The grass has almost all been burnt away, what is remaining is the withered brown kind, a hospice patient knowing death is approaching.

The trees are mostly burnt away. What is left are decaying branches. The more I look around this land, the more barren I realise it is. Unlike a desert where it is clear there is no life, this place has remains, postcards from the past, which merely mocks you with what was.

Saturday, 02 April 2011 20:10

Nice Lipstick

Written by

A fat man wedged between the creamy thighs of a naked woman is giving it to her real good. I can tell from his short thrusts, the bored look on her face that he has a small cock. The woman tries to speak to me, her crimson mouth moving, but it’s all croaking to me. All the same, I say to her, “Why, yes, I’d love to tap that ass, but I’ve got a job to do and by god I’m going to do it, because a man without conviction is nothing more than a limp dick with nowhere to go.”

She stares back, confused. I cannot help her.

Saturday, 02 April 2011 20:08

Another Castle

Written by

Me X 5

Rain sizzles on fire, burning orbs circling to my left and my right as I ascend the staircase. I’ve worked at this for hours, sweat gluing clothes to skin. I reek like a wet dog fresh out of a bloody fight.

The masonry circles inward towards a single parapet. Not a castle for living in, more a maniacal prison crossbred with a medieval castle. As I circle around again, knocking a skeletal monstrosity down into darkness, I catch a glimpse of blonde hair, the color tinged with red, perfect, like cake in a store window. She turns and waves, and the smile twists my guts. If I could only reach her, I could make her understand.

A trap comes down on my head, the stone goliath’s spikes driving first into my head, and then spine as it shoves me into the floor. I have just enough time to feel my teeth shatter before the world goes black.

Bubbles of ones and zeroes carry me backwards, the plates of my skull popped back into place by hands thin to the point of no dimension.

Saturday, 02 April 2011 20:06

Head Rush

Written by

And then…

One

My memory starts black. It’s all I see. Onyx. Pitch. Jet. Dead. Night. It’s black. And then…

Two

A flash and everything appears. A girl on the bus. I used to see them all the time. Who cared? We never got off at the same stop, those girls and I. Men, we have excuses to be on the bus. It’s not easy for us to score rides. It’s mostly men when you ramble around the streets on the bus. The pretty girl was rare on the bus.

There was something about this one though. That’s how it always starts, isn’t it? Christ, not another love story.

Saturday, 02 April 2011 20:06

My Brief Empyrean Sojourn

Written by

'I thought you were dead.'

Sharon shrugged, not looking up from Karen's book, 'Didn't last.'

Karen sat across from her, nibbled at the angel food cake, staring at her book and the way Sharon bent it in half, the dirt stains she left.

Sharon yawned, her mouth wide, teeth fungal green.

Karen's face soured, 'You smell awful.'

Sharon put down the book, the spine creased, stretched her arms, groaning. 'Feels so good.'

'You look filthy.'