Issue #1, Spring 2003

Contents

Look At Me by H. Courreges LeBlanc

The Intelliblender by Jan Steckel

Democracy dor Dummies by Rob Stephenson

Lucifer May Be Legion; We Were Only Two by Trebor Healey

Short Circuits by Ryan Kamstra

Frenzy by Forrest Aguirre

Two Postcards from I-90, West of the Plains by Hanne Blank

Thunder & Floof by Lydia Swartz

This Is the Kind of Femme I Am...Honey by Dossie Easton

Instructions for a Lamarckian Sperm Donor by Steven Schwartz

The Sorcersoft Story by Charlie Anders

Mutant Powers #4 by Matthue Roth

The Perfect Moment by Cat Tailor

I Fear The Migration by Valeska Keller

Scarlet Stream by :/ Bachu

The Affair by Briana Cavanaugh

Excerpt

from "Short Circuits" by Ryan Kamstra:

"Understand until the age of fifteen my mother had raised me as a girl. I would have likely continued to believe this had it not been for an encounter under an offramp with a boy in the car in which he spent nights circling the subdivisions.

My mother spit in a clump of silicone and fashioned me in her hand. I still retain the warmth.

He told me the whole night he loved how thin I was. He let his hands run all over and I wanted him there. It was enough that I had a bra on and heąd seen it and Iąd seen myself in a mirror and known. I put my legs up over the glove compartment while he felt the back of my neck.

I spent my fifteenth year dying to lose my virginity. Typical, I suppose. I wore my hair short and there were a lot of rumours going around that I was a dyke. It was funny the simple changes that came over me when I put on make up. When I willfully tried to look more feminine.

I was better as a girl. I mean I was a bit butch for a girl but I knew who I was. I liked Echo and the Bunny Men. INXS. I wore smokerąs gloves, ones with the fingers cut out.

I was dying for a boyfriend. I felt like a thousand lockers thrown open and the football team laid flat. Cheerleaders immolating themselves over the void of New England faith.

It didnąt help that I was a tough ass. Growing up on the edge of things I had no choice. I killed off arms thrown easily around me with the mouth of a smartass prick. I continue to do so.

I came to consciousness in the back seat of a car in an alien body. There were traffic lights in the back window. Clusters of promises you make to yourself but cannot keep. undred degree gases pool in the high nooks on her ceiling. Nothing can extinguish her burn."

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