Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known...
The Year They Invented Frozen Lemonade"I am midtown. Manhattan?" Linda Winkelman speaks her question out loud in the middle of the rush hour push; no one takes notice. Linda is standing in the middle of a street. She can not recall who she is or why she is here. "I remember lemonade," says Linda. Buildings disappeared, people disappeared. Now it is her turn. Linda Winkelman was born the year they invented frozen lemonade.
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2―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)Scope Virgin
The woman at the far end of the kaleidoscope had not been there last week, of this Simon was sure. She was naked or near enough, thinly dressed in a diaphanous veil. "Holy shit!" Simon Alexander breathed on the lens and gave it a wipe with his sleeve. "I see that I have your attention..." said the woman, "...finally."
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)McMuckle Makes a Minyan
The ineffable, unnamable God of Hosts stood with a burly, bearded personage who held a bar towel draped over one arm, a symbol of his trade. The golem toyed nervously with an ear. "My people should quake at My unutterable Name, not fall on their tukhes," God sighed. The ear came off. "Bim... this is not about you. Try to stay on topic."
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)Platterland
It was a real nice laying-out—tasteful. Well, maybe not so much tasteful particularly, but neat. They’d got Ed’s left arm attached to his head and not his shoulder. And they had the remaining right arm attached on the left side. To look like them, I supposed.
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)Daphne Longhandle's Last Flight
"See that, Franklin?" said Eleanor Roosevelt. "That’s O’Brien." Franklin observed a line of stars on the eastern horizon. There were four. "Oops, sorry." Eleanor nodded at her new constellation, O’Brien, and the fourth star blinked out.
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)The Song of the Rice Barge Coolie
"My sister, is she dead? Go and give her a poke, would you?" The great white presence that was the Lady Mother of the Long Walkers indicated the row of captive queens on their dais beneath her, deferentially lower.
in
Aeon Speculative Fiction Eleven―mp3 available Fall 2008The Runaway Bungalow
"Arrgh! See me neck, lad?" The pirate's head hung at a grotesque angle from where the long executioner's knot had settled at the base of his skull. Theophrastus Bigelow was a big man—the weight of his fall through the executioner's trap had broken his neck but had not killed him immediately. He lifted a ten-kilo strand of gold chains to reveal his scars. "Admirable, what-oh?" The mark of the hangman was stamped on Bigelow's throat.
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4―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)E Pluribus Human
"YO, BABE!" a man's voice blared at Grenadine McKenzie, "SURPRISE, YOU'RE PREGNANT." A craggy male face bloomed before her. The face was a hero's face, Lance Davenport from Rights of Spring. There was an odor of patchouli.
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)A Pass on the Tabouli
Errol Flynn, aged 120, has been kept alive with hormones and organ transplants until 2025 for the last, final, remake of Kipling's 'Kim.' It will be a musical.
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)Boys' Night Out
Jim bit the dog's ear off. He spat―dog blood was different, somehow forbidden.
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)I Want to Share Your Wheat
Prosper Epilegomenes is a mouse demon in service to Sminthian Apollo. He blows up a car dealership and kills a troublesome neighbor.
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)The Perfect Homburg
Duckpin bowling in Taunton, Massachusetts. A duel over a magic hat sacred to Artemis, sister of Apollo.
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)An Unwarmed Fish
A barroom in Hell's Kitchen. There is a meatball buffet and it is always Thursday, August 14th. Artemis, Apollo's sister, is ahh... difficult.
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)The Ninepatch Variation
Libby Pease remembers her girlhood as a litany of lost callers. Now a visitor: William Powell has misplaced Myrna Loy.
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The Red Sneaker Zones
Libby Pease accepts having her own personal shaman as an article of faith, which faith she could not tell. The dead Indian smells rank, but not unpleasantly so―fresh earth clinging to over-wintering vegetables, plug-cut tobacco and molasses.
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)Klein, the Clone
Twins play which kid's got the papers. Originally published as The Flags of All Nations Hors D'eouvre Toothpick Caper.
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)A Special Providence
"I thought there was a special providence that looked out after these things," said Gerry. A ten-dollar jackpot dropped into the takeout drawer. "There is," said a voice. "And don't whack the machine—the lottery corporation doesn't favor muscleheads abusing church property."
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Tomcat
His great green eyes invited her to share a secret knowledge, intimating she was trusted, but not yet ready for a full revelation. Her species would have to mature.
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)Dead Man in the Yard
There was a dead man in the yard this morning. I checked in my wallet for my latest picture of the front yard. I have a collection of yard pictures that goes back for years but I usually carry only one photo at a time. No, he was a new arrival. I called Sheila. Sheila is my ex-wife.
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)Facelift
Lord Zorgon of Alymeade sighed, a great exhalation redolent of smoldering carpets. "Where was I? Facelifts, yes. Women, whatever their ages, never wish for sensible things like orthotics or a tonsillectomy."
mp3―stream | download (dialup) | download (broadband)Return of the Orange Virgin
A tale of the Fata Morgana, Lady of the Wild Things―a serial novel with a new chapter each month.
Lost in Willipaq―Lovers, Losers, and Part-time Demons
Willipaq, the book: new stories, fresh forays into the fantastic―sixteen tales plus a novella.
A Brief History of the Author―the thumbnail bio
coming attractions
The Runaway Bungalow"The Gypsy Princess, that is a fine name for a sailing ship," Oswaldo said, shaking loose a cigarette from the pack at the feet of San Expedito, patron of immediate gratification. Oswaldo felt cheated. What had San Expedito done for him lately?
Daphne Longhandle's Last Flight
"You are a summer person," Daphne sighed. "I always know when it’s summer—people with brown knees, backpacks and nowhere to go." This was followed by gales of laughter. Whackhoop! Arrgh, arrgh, arrgh! The creature snorted a cloud of sulphur, brimstone and mephitic halitosis: the usual stuff if one is a familiar of dragons. I sneezed. "Bless you," said the dragon.
Mark Twain in Milan
A woman popped out of thin air beside me. She was swinging a serious looking cavalry saber; She gave me the once-over and attacked. I ducked. Her pale gray eyes grew huge. "Oh, terribly sorry, old chap. I thought you were someone else," she said. "Are you still alive?" I said yes. "I say, good fun, what?" she remarked. A bullet zinged past and we dived under the desk.
Chimaera Constant
"Sweet Jesus!" Elizabeth Profitt Pease has for just a moment, a split second, the queer idea that there is an eyeball in her teacup. "Uh... hello, eye." The eye does not speak. She takes a swallow of Dr. Pomeroy's straight from the bottle and shakes her head to clear it. She squints; the eye in her teacup squints back—the eye is hazel and clear. It is her mother's eye.
—The 3rd tale of the Libby the Quilter triptych
The Death of James A. GarfieldDid I tell you I went to James A. Garfield Elementary? Probably not. We had cheerleaders and a losing basketball team for them to cheer for—Bobo skewatten-daddle, get it right! James A. Garfield gonna win tonite! I missed out on World War Two because I was pigeon-toed. The pigeon-toed thing never failed to get a chuckle. And some suspicion that I might have been a war slacker. It’s my name—Pigeon, Harley Pigeon. School spirit saw to it that I was more or less informed about the late president.
