DANNY MARTIN RAN within three feet of the rim of Bryce Canyon, screaming the word “Blam!” over and over with all the fullness of his ten-year-old voice. He didn’t particularly choose this word. It just arrived deep in his head, bouncing through his scull until escaping repeatedly through his wide-open mouth. He liked how … Continue reading Across The Canyon
God forgive us if this world, a world torrential with our cyclonic tempers, be the last world created. Not that we are all that ignorant of others nurtured by this planet to fruition, whether they be sea bottoms of trilobites or lands ravaged by tyrannosaurs. Those worlds pummeled into extinction by an errant asteroid or … Continue reading What Time Do You Have
A RED LIGHT BLINKS FAST, screams of panic erupt; amid the commotion a young man's voice shakes with sadness: “I'm sorry, mum...” Rapid heartbeats, amniotic fluid, a fetus within a womb. A mother's voice filters into the womb, singing, “Care is heavy, therefore sleep, while I o'er you watch do keep. Sleep, pretty darling do … Continue reading Where The Hearth Is
No longer the vague whispers over an indistinct horizon. No clamoring church bells, only a doctor’s soft, clinical, sorry sounds. Do not doubt it. Rage does smolder in the brush of a dry land. Fears do bolt from the undergrowth. Soon, too soon, purgatorial fires – the chemo, the radiation – appetites shriveled, burnt down … Continue reading Just Diagnosed
they assault me in my dreams grinning disjointed sneers yawping chasms causing claustrophobic paranoia possession in summary distorted screams and inexcusable modes of shrieking tunnel vision dead ideologies and existential dilemmas squat bodied visions of ancient identities non-reality husks pose little threat to a cracked dream system — SCOTT C. HOLSTAD Scott C. Holstad has authored … Continue reading Dystopian Dreamscapes
AS A CHILD, Arthur was mesmerized by the golden plaques affixed to building facades. Endlessly, he would ask his nanny to decipher the mysterious titles etched under the plexiglass: “Psychologist, psychiatrist, psychotherapist, psychoanalyst.” The little boy would bounce with joy upon hearing those strange sounds. His nanny, a young woman of Moroccan origin, had explained … Continue reading Our Need For Consolation
My mind has a mind of its own, so in the morning, I’m going to self-test my bullet-proof vest. In the careless wind everything should go according to plan. Like they say, misery loves gluttony. That’s why I enjoy making every single minute of the day hyper-productive. Yesterday, for example, I was more than a … Continue reading Gotcha Covered
IT'S A WARM DAY. Kind of hot. Almost too hot for June. Sitting in the car doesn’t help. Hair up, sweat on the neck. Home-dyed ombre. $1,015.01 in savings. Phone buzzing. You free tonight? Tinder. He never texted me back. Lorna. Reminder, you have an appointment on July 20th. Press Y to confirm or N … Continue reading Sheila Is A Queen
I’m not an astrophysicist. I’d rather leave my overture into the expanse to science — I don’t care what happens to the stardust clinging to my sequoia lashes once I take course downriver. Remember, this is ash we’re talking about. If, for whatever reason,I wink and nebulae explodeacross the water —the mortician has failedin his … Continue reading Burial
MY FIRST LOOK AT at the new girl that Jack pushes through the cabin door ahead of him reveals that she is slim, with hair as black as mine but long and wavy. She is perhaps a full decade younger than my twenty-seven, and her skin is pale to my dark brown. She is hyperventilating. … Continue reading Lovers