Author
Brynn MacNab
Introducing Your Parents to the Spoils of Adventure
You arrive already tugging at the collar of your polo shirt. You've grown comfortable in plate armor, in doublet and hose, and your old belted trousers now feel awkward and ugly. Your mother welcomes you at the door, offers drinks. She takes in Cordelia's gold and pink gown in a…
The Words on the Walls
The prisoner had literally written in circles--well, thought Myra, literally in squares--pacing around and around to fill the stark white walls of the room. The place was barely the size of a good shoe closet, with no windows and no bed. A camera, disconnected now, perched in…
The Love Letter
We deployed on February 14, Saint Valentine's Day, named for the saint who performed forbidden marriages. I stood in line next to a guy named Wallace Ault. Around us was much wailing and gnashing of teeth, a lot of people sobbing on each other's necks. Wallace and I weren't…
Rob Lithim Used to Be Two People
***Editor's Note: Adult language and adult story*** He stood momentarily lost in the heavy beat of the club, lights and bass line pulsing together. On stage longhaired boys screamed and writhed and clutched their guitars, while a mass of bodies bounced before them. Nearer Rob,…
The Left Side of Your Lover's Broken Face
***Editor's Note: Adult language, sparingly used*** A story is a little tiny piece. A brick, a section of straight pipe, half a radiator. It should be an important piece; if it's not important, pick a different bit. If you can still tell what's important. A table leg. A trash…