Speculative Fiction and Poetry
History repeats
Four worlds in as many weeks. I do think I signed on to the right ship if I want to see the Empire. Or, every Second Street in it, anyway. Sunar looked around himself at the street full of bars which always seemed to…
Can’t Hide
Sunar sat and looked down at the glass before him while trying to blink away a slight drink-induced haze. His buddies had already won twice, betting that he could drink someone under the table. Then, while he cleared the effects of the booze from…
Shore Leave
Sunar had planned to spend the day at a handful of tourist spots within the city, visit one of the local weapons shops to check out a ‘virtual target practice system’ that claimed to be an excellent way to practice with realistic firearms in…
Arresting Development
Spring: six months after leaving the Monastery, half a world away. Sunar plugged his phone into the Bar’s recording equipment, made a quick copy of the files he needed, and then slipped out the back door. Dumping the thug on the ground of the…
First Action
Spring: six months after leaving the Monastery, half a world away. Sunar leaned against the wall next to the door and watched a drunk stumble his way up to the bar. The human, one of the biggest he’d ever seen, slammed money down on…
The Topological Twist by Lee Hart
The Topological Twist Lee Hart It used to be the Bottom’s Up, Just one flight down from the heat. The best booth had a window With a worm’s eye view of the street. Alas, it soon went bankrupt, But it will not be missed….
House of the Rising Sun by John C. Mannone
House of the Rising Sun John C. Mannone The shot glass shatters in his hand as he slams it on the bar. His callous hand doesn’t stop the blood. And the bartender says something wrong. The drunk says he’s not a sociopath, just a…
Unquestionably a moon or an Asteroid by Kendall Evans
Unquestionably a moon or an Asteroid Kendall Evans Within this circle or sphere that I look upon, an ash-colored formation, lozenge shaped, not quite oval, in the lower right quadrant – indicative of different terrain? I imagine myself with my eye pressed to the…
Grant Wilson Art
