Issue 59 Apr 2018

Issue 59 Apr 2018

Alternate Forms of Life by Thomas Cannon

Lenny rubbed his salt and pepper stubble with his shoulder as he tightened the coupling. He tried to remember what was wrong with the college kid working with him. You have to explain things carefully, Lenny remembered Stanfield telling him. And you will take it easy on the young man.

"You're denser than a damn fence post,” he told the kid.

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I am not. My body is made up of approximately 62 percent water while a fence post is composed of wood or even metal."

Lenny raised his own furry eyebrow back at the lanky kid with large brown eyes and straight teeth. He figured the kid could do well with the girls if he wasn’t such a moron. “I’m telling you, you’re dumb.”

“Urr,” Alexander said. “I graduated from high school at the top of my class.”

Spilled Milk by Susan HowarthIt was Friday, which meant the cafeteria reeked of fish sticks. There were a hundred of us, starving, cranky, and lined up like cons in a prison. Such is high school. Standing in that sweaty mob, I was trying to focus on what April was saying. But God, she made it hard sometimes.

“... And don’t forget, you still need to book the limo, find a crimson pocket square and necktie — NOT a bowtie, Logan — and order my calla lily corsage.”

Next, shes gonna remind me to wear matching socks.  

Sometimes I fantasized about breaking up with her, but I knew that would be social suicide. Rule number one at Dalton High: don’t piss off the Queen Bee.