The Art of Drowning -2.1- By Phil Huston 

Caswell set his guitar on the sofa beside him, picked up the vibrating phone. “Cas –” “You sent a women’s world ginger looker with a sassed-up mouth up the elevator this time, Caswell. I have whining from six directions.” “She came on her own.” “She knows your name well enough. Special Investigations lets you pick […]

On a pale horse

Tonight you kill someone. Not a faraway kind of killing like a bullet or a button. Or a word. Misheard. Just the tearing of skin, and sin spliced out on the lathe A sigh. A lie. Perhaps? Incoherence and poetry tangle in the mumbled softness of his drunken debut. Curled feline on his chest the … Continue reading On a pale horse

A plague on both your houses (3/3)

Having grown up with 12 sisters, Spontaneous Bucket was no stranger to unexpected phenomena. Still, the sheer magnitude of the beast took even him by surprise, 'Wow. I mean. Wow.' The dragon sighed, 'I see that human is still synonymous with dung beetle.' It was always difficult to seem sensible once someone had established that … Continue reading A plague on both your houses (3/3)

A plague on both your houses (2/3)

In times of plague it was always best to err on the side of caution where pustules were concerned. Even without the secret soothsayer's custard based predictions, cutting one of the strange mounds open suggested an up close, all round, surround sound, pus experience. Spontaneous Bucket took a deep breath, whatever happened this would be … Continue reading A plague on both your houses (2/3)

A plague on both your houses (1/3)

Spontaneous Bucket poked at the pus filled mound with a stick, ‘It’s amazing, they look exactly like a scaled up version of the ones that grow on people.’ ‘Personally, I underestimated the level of grossness,’ his companion called from behind a tree. Several of the peculiarities had recently exploded, covering a quarter-mile radius in a […]