An Affair
It is as if she knew what he was thinking before he thought it; electrons are fast but not that fast. He checks the timestamps. Her reply is timestamped earlier than his original message by two minutes. The only logical explanation he can think of is she is in a slightly different time at school, that his time at home is warped and school is always two minutes ahead of home…
Donny’s Big Break
“Why can’t the world be unfair to me? Why do I always get exactly what I deserve?”
Walk
He left all his sticks. Which he should regret because they are his life’s work, but he needed his hands free to open and close doors and be ready to ward off Antoinette if necessary, which was not necessary, and his hands are not hands that are adept at juggling. Instead of regretting his sticks, he is happy he left them.
A Dumb Place
In retrospect, agreeing Mary’s suggestion had not been a particularly bright idea. And she now realized the idea was never hers in the first place. In the past three hours Brenda had gone over the sequence of events and was now fully aware of how her young charge had manipulated her into her current predicament.
The Church of Nonexistence
The pamphlet-that-does-not-exist is in my hand! This is the pamphlet of my church: The Church of Nonexistence. We worship the God of Nonexistence.
Filling Space
Simon always felt that he grew up among giants and geniuses, as if he were a reverse-superman sent from a small and mild planet.
Nobody Knew
Nobody knew the things about you that I knew. I knew where you were that time when you called and asked if I knew where you were. I said I didn’t, but I did. The connection was good enough that I didn’t even have to pretend it sounded like a local call and not like a call from London.
I’ll Be
Jimmy Brewster’s hands were pulsating with steely warmth the day he woke up dead.
Class of 2121 Biography Project
“What were once thriving online communities, have since become electronic tombs, full of messages and photos marking events throughout entire lives…”
Decrepit
I remember walking through a decrepit city. I am not alone. I do not remember who I am with, adult or child. Wife or child. Both, but only one. Both in one person, a conflation, an amalgamation, an imagination. My wife when she is younger than she is now, but older than a child, the child one of mine, no younger than now. Which child?

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