Monday, April 27, 2009

Dreaming of Perfection : a novel excerpt

Chapter 2

by Jonny kelly

The rain is pissing down in the wonderful Glasgow. I'm on a bus going
into town. I'm particularly annoyed as I can hear two fucking junkies
snorting cocaine on the back of the bus. I don't know if I want to
join them or kick them off the bus - I probably want to do both at the
moment. The driver is a tall, husky black fella, who seems oblivious
to Sid and Nancy snorting in the back seats. My mind seems to rest
slightly as I see my stop coming up. I stand up early, so I don't have
to hear the snorting pigs anymore. “Cheers driver,” I say extremely
politely, the driver looks at me with an awkward glare, as if I've
just raped his baby daughter with a chainsaw strapped to my dick. I
put a Metro newspaper over my head, because the rain seems to be
thumbing down nonstop. I'm not infuriating with annoyance though; I
know I've only got a two minute walk - the editor, my boss, is waiting
in a nice little café just around the corner from the bus stop.

I enter the café with a big smile on my face; there is a lovely smell
of fresh coffee, which makes me fell quite happy. I sit down on an
expensive looking black leather chair, at the table where my editor
(John) is sitting. “Have you read the Mirror today David?” John asks

“No I've just read the Metro on the bus, why?”

"Well, David, there is an exclusive story in the Mirror about mass
deaths in the Orkneys."

“Mass deaths in the bloody Orkney Islands, are you having a fuckin'
laugh? Is there something in your coffee John?"

"There isn't much information in the paper, at the moment, all we
really know is that over 20 people in the Orkney islands have commited
suicide by forcing a 10 inch blade through their skull.”

"So I guess I have to go to the bloody Orkney Isles for this story
then. Scotland's answer to the fucking Wacko Disaster.”

"It might very well get bigger than that mate, who knows?"

"Fine I'll go as long as I don't end up in the Wicker man at the end.”
An oriental looking Asian girl walks over to me with a black coffee.
She has a cute little grin on her face, so I decide to grin back at
her, this makes her giggle.

I put the soaking Metro in to a bin which is at arms length from our table.
“So when will I start this investigation?”

John takes a sip of his coffee and then rests the cup on a napkin,
“hopefully you'll be able to start this weekend, we'll see what we can
do for your transportation."

I am now quite annoyed, I look at the ceiling of the café and notice
some chewing gum, this makes me even more annoyed, because it looks
like a nice little clean café.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

A Headless Man Falls in Love with a Bowl of Rice

A Headless Man Falls in Love with a Bowl of Rice

by Bradley Sands

The headless man is eating dinner. He feels his life is incomplete. His tears dribble out of his neck wound and his major organs rain down on a bowl of rice. If any more organs rain down on the bowl of rice, the headless man will stop feeling that his life is incomplete. He does not want this. The only way to save himself is to make his life complete in a different way. He must use a method of hunting and trapping the missing piece rather than not feeling anything at all. The headless man has determined the missing piece is an emotion. An emotion that has been reserved for a person who is not the headless man. An emotion that will fit into his soft tissue. But where will he hunt and trap this emotion? Women are repulsed by his incompleteness, men are likely to react to it with violence. He contemplates this conundrum. He stops contemplating. He looks down at the bowl of rice with longing. He looks down at the bowl of rice, regretting all the pieces he has left behind.

Bio: Bradley Sands is the author of the novel, It Came from Below the Belt, and the editor of Bust Down the Door and Eat All the Chickens. His work has appeared in The Bizarro Starter Kit (Blue), Lamination Colony, No Colony, Opium Magazine, Robot Melon, decomP, susurrus, Thieves Jargon, and elsewhere. Visit him at

Monday, April 6, 2009

Underneath, A Group of Catfish Discover Existentialism

Underneath, A Group of Catfish Discover Existentialism

by XtX

Paw Paw wakes up.

Paw Paw decides, ‘this is the day’.

Paw Paw still makes his breakfast, still turns the pictures facing the walls.

Paw Paw calls no one; he feels secure in this.

Paw Paw finishes his quilt made of horseshoes, hemming the sleeves with the remaining darkness from his past.

Paw Paw takes the rest of his arthritis medicine and a six pack of Coors.

Paw Paw saws off a shotgun, writes “FRIEND” in black Sharpie on the side.

Paw Paw heads out to the bridge at the mill pond.

Paw Paw thinks, this path is overgrown now.

Paw Paw remembers catching blue gill with his grandson which is a lie he tells himself

Paw Paw is terrified for a second, but the second passes and he cannot feel his hands

Paw Paw sits on the low wood railing of the bridge; he hears the rustling of birds in the brush.

Paw Paw thinks about it being his last day, for certain.

Paw Paw wraps himself in the horseshoe quilt, grabs his friend.

Paw Paw whispers please.

Paw Paw pulls the trigger.

Paw Paw falls and sinks and sinks.