She and Peewee were a meeting of vacant minds and serpent spines. I was there when Peewee skewered his testicles in junior high, breaking into the junkyard, so spawn seemed unlikely. Small mercies.… more
Writer: Ian Johnson
The Corpse Seeker’s Picnic
FICTION by Ian JohnsonThe day six version of him was an ugly puddle of a man—his shattered knees spreading, his severed nubs flexing, his bagged kitten remonstrations now guttural and sullen. The sting to him had returned, his scheming soul looking to grab, his sawdust compassion dried to a sneering paste.… more
