It was a proper summer day, sun laughing from the sky. In the afternoon, it turned sweltering.
The leather bag dug into my sore left shoulder. The chili dog from earlier rebelled, and pressure settled in my stomach. The weather made it hard to breathe. A sure sign, I was getting old, and tired after a late lunch break.
It never bothered me before, whether the heat nor the chili.
The Pied Piper ice truck lurched in the street. Its jingle drowned out the barking dogs. The ice cream was the second-best solution to this blistering heat. The best waited for me in my fridge, a chilled beer and five of its buddies. Continue reading “Postman”

Magic Entities Liaison

Magic Entities Liaison

My nastiest hangover is mainly the minister’s fault.

Unlike any usual stiff diplomatic, Minister Kagekamui is an outstanding man, with more secrets up his sleeve, than stars in the sky.

He catches me one winter night, at a poker table, with the foxes and the tanuki. It is the middle of my underground shift, and I’m supposed to be on the watch for rogue magical entities, not playing transformation poker with them. But it is such a beautiful night, and Consul Kitsune has his 31st birthday party.  Continue reading “Magic Entities Liaison”

med bay snippet #5

med bay snippet #5

Oz takes the bandages from my new prosthetic hand and sets the new parameters for my fine motor skills. Try. Obediently I clench and unclench my fist. Feels weird. The hand sweeps accidentally to the right, nearly smashing the coffee cup from the table Oz calls office. He gives me painkillers. He forgets I can switch my sensory input off.  Probing the feel of it, I  do some exercises. The movements are grainy.

Next time I print you a better one. He sighs. Has to suffice for now. The feeling of a doubled limb glitches through my arm and head. Oz calls it phantom limb. You’ll get used to it. I disconnect the sensors, and reconnect. There is no pain at all, just this sensation of a vague hand dragging me across movement.  Continue reading “med bay snippet #5”

space monkey mafia (1)

space monkey mafia (1)

dangers of underserved power – a chuck wendig prompt

I wave a cheeseburger in front of the animal. The chimpanzee observes carefully. He nods vigorously, showing teeth. His ears flap. Chuck’s the only chimp I know to prefer burgers over bananas, or fruits, or gummy bears. He’s a primate in every way.

Probably I could bribe him with booze and cigarettes too. Nearly a human…

I point at the screen. The pattern is so slow, that even the stoned biology student catches up.  Continue reading “space monkey mafia (1)”

No Barking!

No Barking!

I ran out of luck today.

My landlord cornered me in the laundry room. I evaded him for two weeks, but not today though. “Your fucking dog keeps yapping the whole goddamned night.” He spat on my sneakers. Mr. Garbagegoblin, as I called him, was as pleasant as explosive diarrhea. I grabbed my wet shirts and stuffed them into the dryer. He stepped closer. The smell of his armpits hit me.”Shut it up! Or you’re out!” He barked into my face, breath wafting with rotten teeth and whiskey.

“But he hasn’t barked yet because he’s a good dog. Even if he’s a cat.” I tried. Continue reading “No Barking!”

Shadow Duties and the Word of Beasts

Shadow Duties and the Word of Beasts


“Sumimasen…“ It’s a reflex, really. I shouldn’t have…

I hold out the single warm glove, I pick up. The old lady turns around and stares in many shades of confusion playing around her eyes. I must have spoken Japanese. Her brows shoot up, seeing her glove in my hand.

“Thank you laddie! Bless you.“ I smile and bow slightly. Bright sunshine warms my back. The heavy tarry feeling on my hand stays, like mud on boots. The old lady turns away and hobbles down Park Lane. Her grey tweed jacket flickers with shadow and light, as she passes under the canopy of the trees nearby.

No matter how hard I try, the sadness stings in my throat, burns behind my eyes. I rip my gaze away from her back.

The old lady dies.

Today… Continue reading “Shadow Duties and the Word of Beasts”

Mr Burke

Mr Burke

published here

The tiger folded his paws, cuffs slipping, showing monograms on his golden cufflinks.

Peterson shuddered. The bureau was huge, bigger than his house.

It made the boss look even more elegant and sophisticated, then before.

The white marble-topped table was impressive, the tiger enthroning the big black leather chair looked like a king holding court.

“Peterson. Do you think, this impresses me?” The tiger snorted and laid his ears back. His golden eyes pierced the weasel sitting in front of his desk. “Do you think this is ENOUGH?” The growl in his voice made the glass of the windows tremble.

Continue reading “Mr Burke”