Selected Fiction
This Version is Obsolete
Maudlin House
The bus deposited Cleo in the parking lot across from the mall. She squinted at the warehouse, flanked by a “Gold Emporium” and an assortment of caged-in public utilities.
Getting here involved two equally inept bus companies, but the rates were cheaper than the curated places downtown. Cleo had moved on enough that the trip was rarely necessary, not enough to make it obsolete.
The Hunt: In Manhattan,
Creative Types from Galaxy UDFj-39546284 Find a Home
The Billfold
Marjorie jjjj9_ never dreamed she would own an entire residential island. But then again, she never dreamed she would leave the outer reaches of space and a thriving career as a bespoke weaver of neutrino scarves, either.
Love can do that, though. Love and your own intergalactic spacecraft parking lot.
Perpetual Care
Mulberry Fork Review
The city always demonstrated late surges of optimism. Never at the forefront of industry or architecture or social change, it had nonetheless thrown itself wholeheartedly into growth at the very end of each national revival. Scar tissue built up. Abandoned projects, buildings, and roadways, stretching from the heart of the city outward in layers of successive style. Decay followed in similar succession, until the center of the city grew so artfully declined that it started to decompose and feed its own growth. And so on.