3 AM. Helen waited patiently on the fence, tapping the mossy brick with her heels. She held the black box in her arms, stroking the small beads that made up the latch and staring at the silver crescent moon etched onto its side. She looked up as she heard Kelley approach, her face half lit… Read More »Lyre – 13. Cradle to Grave
“You have a problem with women?” Michael’s therapist tapped his pen against his knee, his eyes casting feigned interest towards the empty notepad on his lap. Michael lounged on the couch, the sleeves of his loosely belted robe pulled back to his elbows. A single sock dipped like an elf’s hat over the ends of… Read More »Along Came a Spider
Despite the best intentions to think bigger and bolder, Herbert and Kelley never branched out into robbing industrial facilities. Through trial and error they had learned that if home invasions had proven to be challenge enough, escalating the stakes would inevitably end in failure. People had proven to be unpredictable, and their security systems inconsistent.… Read More »Lyre – 12. The Death of Bill Watterson
A black SUV rolled past Helen on her way to tennis practice, radioactive symbols sloppily stenciled over its black tinted windows. The driver’s side window rolled down and a fleshy-faced man with sunglasses and salt-and-pepper stubble gave her a nod. “Hey babe,” he shouted from his car. He grabbed the vascular forearm of a man… Read More »Lyre – 11. Patricide Carnival
After many years of sweet solitude, the prophet crawled out from his mountain cave and headed to the market, eager to share the wisdom spilling over his soul. His fingers twitched and the edge of his lips curled at the chance that the market was riddled with empty cups. Once there, he climbed on the… Read More »The Curse
Kelley found it hard to pay attention to his meeting with Herbert. Just swirled his coffee mug and replayed in his head the argument he had with his mother that morning. “Glycine, l-theanine, niacin, nigella sativa, lion’s mane, trans-resveratrol. You don’t even know what half this stuff does. No offense, but you look like shit!”… Read More »Lyre – 10. Aquarius Rising
Waves like living mountains crashed against the ship’s hull. Mist sprayed Babalon’s face. She strained with each heave of the boatman’s pole through the thick molasses of the rampaging waters, the boat barely cresting over each barrage of frenzied buckling. Where the waves could not reach, the water’s white noise flooded, spilling out in reverse… Read More »Lyre – 9. Turning of the Worm
Powered by fate, the torture wheel cycled endlessly. Kelly’s lay stretched out like a starfish, his limbs bound to the wood with thick rope. Wet bubbles popped from the flat lips of January as he flung another knife into Kelley’s pin-cushion body. It had sunk halfway through, and like all the others had yet to… Read More »Lyre – 8. Lyre
Above the desert floor that once held circuit grids like human veins, snakes of blue gauze swam through soft congregations of copper, gold and red vapors. Black mountains popped in the distance like paper cutouts hung in the sky. Sitting cross-legged on coarse and cracked earth, Babalon painted, her garrote-dipped fingers tracing the new lines… Read More »Lyre – 7. Cloven Horizons
An Amish woman gave me my first blowjob. No joy. No mirth. Just churning. Churning away. I came in her mouth. She swished it around, made a face like a cat hacking up a hairball then spat out a chunk of butter. She pointed to the door, eyes wet with resentment. I was no longer… Read More »Churn of the Screw
