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
"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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Excerpt
from "Short Circuits" by Ryan Kamstra:
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