Stories

Today our twins were born. Name: Xiang. Weight: 3220 grams. Length: 17.3 inches. He has a little sister.

Evert Asberg lives and works in Europe.

When the broad­casts stopped, it got lonely in the bunker. In the end we took a vote. We didn’t want to out­live the human race.

Jack Vivace lives at home with his girlfriend, his birds, and the shambling horror that came with the apartment.

Isaac had barely spoken to him since. Abraham began to wonder if he had failed the Lord’s test after all.

Sean Vivier wrote this.

My robot friend failed his Turing test. He was devastated, but not in the same way a person would be.

Tom Byers, fortunately for the human race, does not know how to build robots.

The priest respects his parish more than ritual, so he no longer intones “world without end.” Not after what he saw in the Vatican vault.

Chad Greene is a profoundly lapsed Catholic.

She asked her Facebook friends for their home addresses, so she could send invitations, some at least, for the funeral.

Evert Asberg envies me, wants to be me or even thinks he’s me. Anyway, he sleeps with my wife.

The clerk had just finished folding a sweater when a woman grabbed it and shook it out, holding it up to the air as if it were her husband.

Charles Rafferty directs the MFA program at Albertus Magnus College.

Grief gives course to her compass, and she finds her mother, after five months, in a Craigslist ad looking for a new daughter.

L. Lambert Lawson blogs, tweets, and edits Kazka Press.

“Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Cut the crap,” said the wolf. “You know it’s me.”

So Little Red Riding Hood opened the door.

David Galef publishes far too much for his own good.

I looked into her eyes and something was wrong. They were too glassy, too hard. This was not my daughter. Still, I said nothing.

Christian Martin writes sci-fi twitter stories and geek poetry @PixelatedGuy.