Author Archives: Apparent Mag
Two poems by Chris Bullard
Free Willy as a Cryptic Reference to Free Will We freed it from a sandbar a kennel insolvency an evil stepmother, but the damned thing refused
Litter, by J.M.M. Carlson
i. neon lights flutter nervously in the oily sky in predictable dystopian fashion an interminable flow of men coalesces and like sand particles scattered by the water jet of light, disappears again, back into bubbles of silence converging … Continue reading
Fabio Takes Me to the Cages Out Back by Jess Alfaro
I put on another layer of repellant and starblock. Fabio leads me from headquarters, then jaunts off on his rounds. His arm points me down the path toward the newest find. What hits me first: the lurid red … Continue reading
The Imp in the Armchair, by Brandon Sorce
It was the kind of nightmare you wake up from with something on your chest. Literally, it felt like this time. I let out a short gasp and coughed; I smelled old cigarettes. I don’t smoke—had I had anyone … Continue reading
Post-coital Heroin: Chapter IV from “On the Graves of Dragons” by Raelin Saretti
Fabulous legs or not, these stiletto heels were straining and pulling my calf muscles tighter than an elf’s asshole. Word travels fast in the underground, especially when money is involved and I had probably less than a half an … Continue reading
Space Emperor, by Daniel Shkolnik
I. Bare-chested on a witch’s rooftop in the gloaming of the volcanic sun, I screamed to make eternity know me. (But scared a flock of pigeons off the roof.) I cried to make the gutters gush me and the … Continue reading
Bathroom Battles, by Arthur Davis
He thinks he can hide from me, but I have seen his type before. They’re all alike; hideously malevolent creatures who swarm in the night and impose themselves onto places once thought to be uncompromisingly private. He doesn’t see … Continue reading
“Reckoning,” by Chris McCreary
Not so simple being both asp & then caduceus, this falling always headlong into Eiffel
“Going My Way?” by D.L. Legere
“It’s not like I don’t deserve to be here—” I trailed off, bracing myself as another of the frequent sandstorms raged. On an open highway, with no shelter in sight, there was little I could do against the gale except … Continue reading