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Index SoI 3

Cover art:

“A Fool Sat on the Precipice” by David Whitlam

David Whitlam is a surrealist artist from Manchester. His work generally begins with pencil drawings, created straight from his imagination using a technique known as automatic drawing (spontaneous and largely unconscious sketches produced in a trance-like state). These ‘automatic’ images are thengradually refined and developed, eventually becoming digital images or oil paintings. To purchase original drawings/paintings or prints (available on canvas or paper), to commission work, or for any other inquiries please email: davewhitlam@yahoo.co.uk. His online gallery can be viewed here: davidwhitlam.com

Fiction:

“The Unfortunate Heartbreak of Faritook the Earwig” by Jason Sturner

Faritook stood on an old log in the woods of a campground, cleaning one of his antennae. Shanamook was about to come along at any moment, and he knew he had to look his absolute best if she were to stop and talk with him. When finally she emerged from the decaying bark, Faritook released his antenna and it sprang back into place… read on…

“The Doctor in Attendance” by Rich Ives

“Perhaps someone bearing a superficial resemblance to me,” said the doctor, “has written a story that appeared to be about x but really was about y. That story of x cannot be this one,” the doctor continued, “because this one is still going and that one, if it really exists, is, in a manner of speaking, deceased, although this one might arrive at some similar conclusions, and yet I might assert that it is widely known that stories are not required to arrive at conclusions.”…read on…

“Autopsy” by Theresa Williams

Gregory’s mom died quietly in her bed in a house on Easy Street.

She died in the morning. That night was the new moon, the dark moon, absence. He made a wish, to see his mom again, and it was granted. She came shortly after they put her in the ground. The whole kitchen glowed red… read on…

“A Walk” by Marc Lowe

As I went about my daily walk, minding my own business, I happened to pass an overweight woman with a tube hanging from her throat. How terrible, I thought to myself, That must be very unpleasant indeed. The tube, which was baby blue and ribbed, swung to and fro like an elephant’s trunk as she waddled from side to side, carrying a recyclable paper bag from the natural foods grocer just down the street… read on…

“Pan’s Lobotomy” by Matthew Burnside

None of us can find the door if there even is one. I’m not so sure anymore. We have been searching for two billion years now, give or take a golden era. Licking the walls of the apartment, groping the darkness for doorknobs the way blind men feel for Braille, flopping around on the carpet like epileptic sardines in a Technicolor tin. We is four of us: Logos, Psyche, Dynamis, and me, Aporia. Maybe more. Sofa makes five… read on…

“Denigrating David” by Kristi Petersen Schoonover

I love booze. A little too much. A little face-down-in-a-garbage-pile-outside-a-Fells-Point-bar-with-the-word “eye”-in-its-name much. It’s not a bad thing, really. I mean, loving the drink. I guess even being in the garbage. Because you smell things in that pile, moldy coffee grinds, rancid yogurt, and spoiled fish, and it’s forty times stronger than anything else you’ve ever smelled in your life, sure, but man you smell it and you know at least you’re not dead… read on…

“Numbskull’s Flower and the Well-Meaning Poets Society” by Meg Sefton

Once upon a time there lived in Numbskull Village an unusual little girl named Flower. Now this particular Flower was unlike all other girls in the village in that she was such a simple thing, she believed everything anyone ever told her. Even though this was Numbskull Village, almost everyone knew you could never trust anyone one hundred percent of the time… read on…

“Power” by Margaret Karmazin

His gut tight, Jamie Ramjattan trudged down the steps from his family’s apartment and onto the street. His small, almost pretty face was a study in dread. Another day, another attack. The last two weeks, he’d had one school day without the misery and that was because he’d hitched a ride with Karen, the senior who lived upstairs. Occasionally she looked down upon him and showed kindness. Not often though and he was too embarrassed to tell her about Bryan and Terrell Glover… read on…

“Floor Models” by Bryan Jones


The agency books two of their best models for an advertisement shoot at a small furniture store. But the models have car trouble. A manager at the agency tries to communicate the problem to the furniture store, but due to an error in the agency’s records, the message that the models are running late is left on the machine of a different store…
read on…

“Operation ICU” by Jerry Guarino

“That’s it. Now we’ll just activate the tracker.” The guard checked the wristband for security and comfort, then had the prisoner, soon to become an outmate, the new term for criminals released under the Inmate Confinement Ubiquity program, sign the release form. “OK, you’re free to go. Stay out of trouble.” With those parting words, the former con man left the island prison and boarded the ferry for San Francisco… read on…

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