by Kenneth Clay
Chaos in Beldad. Dogs leaping from their picket-white cages to chase after the sirens. Heads turning. Us, slowly coursing down the street like authorial blood flow. It was simple. We were meeting Justin in his own homeland. Paul and James were in the car ahead of us....
by Kenneth Clay
THE PRESENT “She said it was Satan.” Paul added. “Did she see where he ran off to? I mean, if we trace his footsteps that’ll lead us right to him. I assume this town has traffic cameras, correct?” I said. James perked up. “All we’d need is just a map of...
by Kenneth Clay
THE PRESENT (OR PAST, WHATEVER YOU LIKE) It was now three-in-the-afternoon. A week before, I had got a call from my boss, telling me to go down to Arizona for a job. Another murder case. No problem, I had solved them before and I would continue to do so. So I packed...
by Kenneth Clay
THE FUTURE “Wake up, Mr. Sander.” “Wake up…” “Wake up now…” I opened my eyes and softly rose up. There was no light inside this room, save for a television playing nothing but static. In between the lines, I saw faces staring back at me. And...
by Kenneth Clay
I fucking hate absinthe. Terrible, terrible, high. If you drink too much. I had some the night before and rather enjoyed it. But it was just a quarter shot. The next night I drank a quarter and realized it wasn’t enough to hallucinate. You never try to...
