Leisure Suit Yourself
LEE HAMMERSCHMIDT
“My God, Shade,” Minx McCambridge said, letting out a heavy audible sigh. “Is that what you’re wearing on our date?”
“Pretty spiffy, huh?” I said, tugging on the lapels of my vintage 1974, powder blue, leisure suit.
Minx let out the sigh again.
“You know we’re going to Molalla Estates for a wine tasting, right?”
“Yep. I never touch wine, so the jacket’s huge inside pockets come in handy.”
I opened the coat to reveal the PBR tallboys stuffed inside.
Minx sighed again, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all,” she said. “When you got the proof of Mario’s infidelity, getting me my huge divorce settlement, I thought a little celebration would be in order. You are kind of attractive in a rugged, gothic sort of way. But it turns out you’re crass and uncouth, with no sense of style or decorum.”
Another sigh.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I said. “This wouldn’t be much of a date. You’re just gasping at flaws.”
Lee Hammerschmidt is a Visual Artist/Writer/Troubadour. He is the author of nine collections of short stories and illustrations. Check out his hit parade on YouTube!
Banana Phones Are the Smartest Phones
E.J. LEROY
Hello, I’m not at home
Please leave a message
With the banana phone
What’s that you say?
No answering machine
Good, now go away
You see, I’ve cut all obnoxious ties
To asinine jokes, doomscrolling,
Petty political stunts, and lies
Until I replaced my smartphone
I had no idea how much time could fly
Now I do, thanks to my banana phone
Smooth yellow crescent on my wall
With no irritating texts, pings, or calls
You’re the least annoying phone of all
So, if my number you cannot reach
That’s just too bad
Tell it to the banana—beep!
E.J. LeRoy is a Pushcart Prize-nominated writer with a forthcoming mpreg novella. Curious? Visit http://ejleroy.weebly.com.
The Monster
CORRIE HALDANE
Mother’s voice forever echoes in my head: When I was your age, I’d already caused eight psychotic breaks and scared three people to death. You’re an embarrassment, Gary.
She never lets me forget she was first in her class at Spooky School, or that she broke every record in the Scare-O-Lympics.
That she’s the best.
I study my reflection in the bathroom mirror, try for a Frightening Face. Fail miserably. Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a Monster.
You’re an embarrassment, Gary.
“You can do this,” I tell my reflection. “Don’t let Mother down. Not this time.”
I melt into the floor, then worm my way through the house. When I reach The Boy’s room, I ooze through a crack in the floorboards and re-form beneath his bed.
Then I wait for him to turn out the light.
The Man stomps into the room, growls, “I told you to get some sleep. You’ve got tryouts tomorrow… Don’t embarrass me. I was state champ three years running. Being the best isn’t optional in this family.”
He flips off the light and exits without even saying goodnight, leaving The Boy alone in the dark.
With me.
The Boy sniffles back tears. My own eyes prickle in sympathy.
You’re an embarrassment, Gary.
They’re Mother’s words, but I hear them spoken in The Man’s voice.
Fire ignites in my chest. A monstrous rage blooms at last. I slip into the floor, creep towards The Man’s room.
Mother will be so proud.
Corrie finds inspiration in nature, bubble baths, and carefully curated playlists. Find her online: www.corriehaldane.com.
Strong Minds Discuss Ideas, Average Minds Discuss Events, and Weak Minds Discuss People
Rachel Rodman
After the Symposium, we recline on the balcony in our togas. Below us, in the shopping district, Athens’ lesser inhabitants bustle. They exchange gossip and sports statistics. They take satisfaction in things.
What limited brains!
What limited lives!
“Weak,” we spit.
“Average,” we sneer.
Our analysis is, however, only preliminary; with our strong minds, we rigorously extend it. Our ideas are immense and intricate, provocative and paradigm-defying, and we are confident that they comprise the rudiments of a new theory.
But our standards our high (we are great philosophers, after all) and we recognize that our work remains at an early stage. Additional—and exquisitely specific—proofs of these contemptible individuals’ behavioral inferiority will be essential in refining it.
See her, doing that?
(Remember her?)
See him, wearing that?
Is he actually wearing that?
We discuss.
Rachel Rodman is the author of three collections of short fiction.
A Story Entirely Inoffensive
KARL EL-KOURA
A person walks down the street. I do not say that they are the protagonist of this story, for why should one person be any more important than any other? I give this non-protagonist (which is not to say there is anything wrong with protagonists) no name, and I do not wish to describe what they look like. I do not say they look like anything in particular.
I say only that this person walks down the street. They arrive at the end of the street and turn in a particular direction. I do not wish to say which direction. The less said, the fewer offended, am I right? Or am I left? I do not say one word should be used over the other.
This walking person (I do not say walking is superior to driving or rollerblading or any other form of transportation, simply that in this particular case the person walked), this walking person arrived a short or a long time later at their destination, which I do not wish to state. This person, as I say, arrived at their destination, and this person was happy to do so. I do not say happiness is better than joy, or even more desirable than a quiet contentment; only that this particular person, who happened to be walking in particular, was happy to arrive at their particular destination.
Karl El-Koura works a regular job by day while writing fiction at night.
Leave-taking
E. FLORIAN GLUDOVACZ
“Where do you think you are going, pray tell?” asked Puck peevishly.
“I’m done and I’m leaving the fairy mound,” the young elf replied.
“You can’t leave! You’re an elf and you belong here, in the world of fairies!”
“I’m done dancing, singing, and cavorting! And I hate magic, too! I don’t want to participate in your antics any longer and there’s nothing you can do about it!”she snapped pugnaciously.
“But, what are you going to do? Where will you go?”
“I will make something of myself! I’ll live in the human world and I’m going to be a barista!
This month...
Contributions from...
E. Florian Gludovacz, Karl El-Koura, Rachel Rodman, Corrie Haldane, E.J. LeRoy, Lee Hammerschmidt, John Grey, Leah Mueller, Asher Bomse, Chris Clemens, Jay Castello, Mike Murphy, Grigory Lukin, Nicholas De Marino, Ken Kakareka, Teesta Roychoudhury, Megan Diedericks, Ben Daggers, Moira Richardson, Cathy de Buitleir, Alethea Paul, Adrienne Rex, Graeme Dixon, Brett Abrahamsen, Karama Neal, Gabrielle Bleu, Mike A. Rhodes, Pamela Love, LindaAnn LoSchiavo, Natalia Plos, Jaina Cipriano
Cover art
featuring photograph from Rolle Pass, Italy by Damiano Baschiera (2018)
PDF and EPUB zines of March’s stories available exclusively to paid subscribers:
Power Prayer
JAINA CIPRIANO
