Issue 12 – Fiction
The Cleaner
I directed Mrs. Powell to sit and make herself comfortable. She lowered herself into the chair at the round table in the lobby of my office slowly, her frail, ninety-year-old frame eventually settling into it.
The Cure for Immortality
As I record this, time is slipping away—also ironic. I’ve lived for centuries, and time has never been on my side.
The Storyteller
There are two facets to this story. One is simple and the other not so. When you are caught in a current that is stronger than you, you swim with it and give yourself a chance at survival. This is simple. Or you struggle against it and either drown or create a story. This is not so simple.