scribblings, may 30

brought to you by extraterrestrial radio waves, broken gravity, & the decision to go or stay.

the writing

The antique radio switched on by itself, signal strong one minute, all static the next. A jumble of voices poured out of it—not speaking English, or any language Josie knew to be of Earth.
For one thing, the words made her ears bleed—literally. Malcolm didn’t look concerned.

~

late afternoon 
frayed jeans, frazzled mind 
—dial the damn number

~

They try to run.
She snaps her fingers and gravity quits—for everything but her.
“You come into my house,” she purrs, refusing to raise her voice over their panicked shouts, “to steal my work, and you don’t even have the magic to back up your audacity. Whatever shall I with you?” 

~

she pinches the moon 
between her fingers—
silver in her pocket

~

A rift opened behind the shed, last Tuesday. 
Gran wants it removed. Dad says it’ll cost too much. 
I’m forbidden from going back there, so of course I have—the rift is big enough for me to climb through, at just the right height. I put my eye to it, but only see a cosmic, Milky Way-like glitter that hurts, like I’ve stared into the sun. Standing so close, there’s a sweet scent of honeysuckle, baked under a summer sun that never quite sets. If I put my ear even closer, a distant chime of bells and laughter drifts through…sounding happier than anything I can remember.
The rift is big enough for me to climb through, for now. 
But I am still growing, every day.

the reading

Poem: “fruity ennui” by Alex Baskin

“Rarely apple, I am usually orange of unknown provenance. Sometimes
rotten muck seeps to my core, and sometimes everything
in the world was created for me. Melancholy seems 
conceivably cantaloupe-related.”

Short Story: “Mermaid in the Bathtub” by Tina Crossgrove

“The note said Do NOT look in the bathroom. So obviously, I did.
The thing in the tub looked back at me.
And then it blinked.
“You fucking idiot.” I slammed the door shut and leaned my forehead against it. I wasn’t sure if Chad was the fucking idiot or if I was.
I took a deep breath and creaked the door open just wide enough to get a good angle on the bathtub.
Two eyes stared at me over the rim of the bathtub. Enormous, glossy, without pupils. Hands, delicately boned and ending in curved talons, gripped the edge of the chipped porcelain. A strand of hair, wet and dark as the midnight sea, slithered over the edge. Its skin was smooth but too matte, gray with hints of green, like river stones.”