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An Act of Consumption, in Two Parts

free-fiction-consumpt

In the basement, there is candy. Boxes teetering atop boxes, overloaded with gum gums and chew worms and those little nougat-filled eyeballs that blink when you stare overlong; with honeyed do's and honeyed dont's; with tar braids and clots of candied floss.

The basement has all the candy you've ever dreamed of, a sticky thrill in every box that's yours and yours alone because only you know where the basement door is currently hiding.

The basement, unfortunately, is also full of spiders.

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Enjoy Our Holiday Sci-fi-tri-fecta!

scifi-flash-2017

Happy holidays! We're happy to bring you three speculative-fiction presents this winter: two flash pieces bursting with goodness, plus a recipe. (A recipe?!?)

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Before you take the test, there are a few things you need to know. There are no right or wrong answers, per se.

Before the test, spend time in the social centers observing others’ behavior. Reread the common laws at the Justice Hall. Keep to your assigned schedule and fill all empty time with Value-Rated activities.

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Soul-Snatcher

horror-story-soulsnatcher

The floor in this room is made of human hair, long tresses tightly braided and packed together. The walls are made of human bones, femurs, tibia and ribs, locked and imbricated. Inset skulls hold candles. The flames burn green.

I sit and I watch and, in time, the gloom is suffused with sparkling atomies, motes of light which swirl and dance as they slowly gather into a shimmering globe. A soul!

I reach out with the fingers of my mind. I squeeze and mould the globe to a little ball. As I do so, it darkens and reddens. I squeeze and compress until it is like a tiny, vivid ruby.

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Bad Dogs, Good Tricks

Dr. Nelson believes I have a distorted view of reality. I’ve argued that even Psych 101 students know we all invent our own world. Not one is the same, or real for that matter, whether or not those worlds include two-headed people with proboscis noses and tails made from their own arms, or furry kittens with cloven hooves. I have a “crass imagination, ill-paired with an absence in forethought,” so I’ve read in the charts.

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