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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & Owner
Ray Rasmussen, General Editor

Volume 11, Number 3, September 2017

Kyle Hemmings
Westfield, New Jersey, U.S.A.


Jim and I are waiting for Rocco to bring us black market pills for our sinuses. We're always sneezing at our own germs. I doubt Rocco will be here on time. He just got out of prison and then broke a leg. Jim and I are never lucky. All day we wait at bus stations so we can ride around the city as if our own. Someday, streets will be named after us. We're happy in our muddled delusions. But I don't like the driver. He always tells us that our change is not exact. And he never says "thank you" or looks us in the face. On the ride uptown, I tell Jim maybe our luck will break soon. It just has to. He sneezes. Like it's a sign. Then I sneeze. But mine is fake.

polluted river
mermaids hitch a ride



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