Category: Fiction

He left all his sticks. Which he should regret because they are his life’s work, but he needed his hands free to open and close doors and be ready to ward off Antoinette if necessary, which was not necessary, and his hands are not hands that are adept at juggling. Instead of regretting his sticks, he is happy he left them.

In retrospect, agreeing Mary’s suggestion had not been a particularly bright idea. And she now realized the idea was never hers in the first place. In the past three hours Brenda had gone over the sequence of events and was now fully aware of how her young charge had manipulated her into her current predicament.

The pamphlet-that-does-not-exist is in my hand! This is the pamphlet of my church: The Church of Nonexistence. We worship the God of Nonexistence.

Simon always felt that he grew up among giants and geniuses, as if he were a reverse-superman sent from a small and mild planet.

Nobody knew the things about you that I knew. I knew where you were that time when you called and asked if I knew where you were. I said I didn’t, but I did. The connection was good enough that I didn’t even have to pretend it sounded like a local call and not like a call from London.

Jimmy Brewster’s hands were pulsating with steely warmth the day he woke up dead.