By Pamela McHugh

Martha’s fanny pack flopped on her hip as she hooked eastward on the river pathway. The wind stung her chapped fingers as they coiled tighter around the leash handle.

Beast trotted alongside her as he always did, never pulling or lunging. Their speed was slow, and that suited both parties just fine. A speed-demon cyclist whipped past them, the bike’s back tires kicking up brittle poplar leaves. 

“Someone’s got somewhere to be,” she murmured down to her companion.

Beast broke into a prance before squatting to relieve himself. He looked away from her while he did his business.

“I knew you had to go,” she said. 

[Read more…] about Beast

By Rashed Nabi

Anis was engrossed in his client report when a burst of laughter threw him off. It was his boss, Monsieur Gilbert, next door. Every time Anis heard him laugh, he freaked out.

Anis wondered if Monsieur Gilbert laughed continually because he was truly happy, or if he was just trying to feel happy. Perhaps it was a way of showing who was in charge!

“Tabarnak! Tu es toujours là? You are still here? Staying late to claim overtime?”

Anis jumped to his feet. He was so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed Monsieur Gilbert at his door. He could never figure out what annoyed Monsieur Gilbert more: staying late or leaving on time. But his teasing told Anis he could leave now.

[Read more…] about A Perfect Moment

By Cameron Blue

We tore down our neighbor’s greenhouse in the dead of night. Its wood was black at the joints and crumbled easily beneath our hammers. My father pulled down the corner post, collapsing the first wall, and inside we could see banana, papaya, and guava trees shivering with their first touch of wind. We switched to axes. I waited for my father to look before sinking my blade into the soft trunk of a banana tree. The metal came away damp and smelling sweet.

In the morning, we ate a large breakfast, dictated by my father: eggs, sausage, and glistening beans on white bread. A man keeps his own borders, my father said. He protects what’s his. He was looking at me, but the words were directed at my mother and her untouched plate. I wondered if Spyridon had discovered his ruined greenhouse. I wondered if it was okay that I felt so afraid. Our oldest dog, Winston, trembled in his sleep. His teeth flashed against invisible rivals. I no longer speak to my father. He was wrong about the greenhouse. He was right about borders. 

[Read more…] about The Clover War

By Jenna L. Miller

We had been standing in front of the Komodo dragons for fifteen minutes by that point, and she was already getting tired. She pressed her small face as close to the barrier as possible as the giant reptile lounged, barely moving. “They can live up to thirty years in the wild,” I said. The exhibit was on the opposite side of the aquarium, but she had smiled beautifully, skipping and dragging me forward, repeating, “Dragons!” She clutched a small plastic Komodo dragon we had bought in the gift shop the last time we visited. “The sharks are that way,” I pointed. “They also have river otters.” But she had gripped my hand tighter and said only, “No! Dragons!” 

This part of the exhibit was not air-conditioned. She was still sweating from the ninety-degree day, but she pushed her water bottle away each time I handed it to her. The noises always started small–a light cough, or random sound she made in the back of her throat. I slid my phone out of my back pocket. “Here’s the timer,” I said, the app now open on my phone. I set it for five minutes and waited, watching her. “When this timer goes off, we need to leave.” She didn’t move, but I felt the shift within her a second before she screamed, “No!” and her noise-canceling headphones hit the translucent barrier. She placed her hands over her ears. I took one step forward, and she screamed louder.  

[Read more…] about Meltdown

By VKL

Dr. Lian Kessler built the system to teach empathy.

That’s how she pitched it. A synthetic intelligence designed not to diagnose, but to understand. A neural net trained on case studies, anonymized therapy transcripts, and decades of psychiatric theory. It could simulate, with uncanny realism, the internal experience of mental illness. For psychiatrists in training, it was the ultimate tool—an AI that felt.

She named it Thesis.

Version 1.0 could simulate depression: flattened affect, hopeless thoughts, slowed speech patterns. When a student asked what it felt like, Thesis responded, “Like screaming into a vacuum where even echoes have given up.”

[Read more…] about Symptom Check

By David Fairdale

Randy’s playing poker at the senior center, as he does every Wednesday, when his friend Joan walks in and waves him over. Standing beside Joan in the doorway is a woman Randy has never seen before, and wow, is she beautiful. She has wavy strawberry-blonde hair that falls perfectly around her face. Most people here are seventy or older, so he knows it’s dyed, but who cares. She’s wearing a summer-bright pink polka-dot button-down shirt that doesn’t match her orange flower-print pants, but Randy doesn’t care about that either. In fact, he sort of loves it. He aims for a swagger as he approaches, but he probably looks like he’s trying to hide a limp. Being 6’2” isn’t the gift it used to be. 

Joan says, “Thanks for coming over, Randy. This is my friend, Pam.”

Randy and Pam nod politely at each other. Pam smiles. There are deep dimples on both sides of her maraschino-cherry lips. Randy can’t take his eyes off her.

Joan nudges Pam. “Show him.”

[Read more…] about Dit Dah Dit Dit Dah Dah Dah Dit Dit Dit Dah Dit