The Blerd and the Hedge Witch

by T.F. Grognon

Read this piece’s entry on the Shousetsu Bang*Bang wiki.

Ben gets home really late. He stayed out after work with Alison and her friends for no good reason other than, after this week of downsizing and reassignments and quarter-ending reports, he needed not to be at work any more, or anywhere he might be tempted to think about work, like home. Most nights, he’s back in time for Jeopardy! and a good few hours to prune, water, and “commune” with the plants.

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Where The Light’s Forgiven

by T.F. Grognon

País en que los deshechos
son amados todavía,
es la comarca sombría
donde la luz se perdona,
porque allí van las personas
del sueño a la poesía.  — Silvio Rodriguez, “Del sueño a la poesía”

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One Thousand Years from Home

by T.F. Grognon
illustrated by beili

He doesn’t belong here, or anywhere.

In 1982, Cal visits Moscow’s GUM department store. He needs to obtain a trinket, something that commemorates the fortieth anniversary of Operation Uranus during the battle of Stalingrad.

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Around the Way Witch

by T.F. Grognon

“Hey! Hey, you! Dress for success!”

Vanessa heard the voice calling out of the general noise around the bus stop, but she didn’t bother to make sense of it. Not until an enormous yellow sunflower cartwheeled right into her, knocking her aside. She’d had another long day in an endless string of long days; the Hub was crowded with commuters looking to get home and not really caring who they stepped on to do so.

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The Vector

by T.F. Grognon

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/342492.html)

Perched on his back steps like enormous carrion birds, heads tipped together in consultation, the Jays are waiting for Rashard when he gets home.

He stayed late at work again, then took his time at the grocery store, so it has been dark for a while now. When his headlights sweep over them, as one, they turn to watch him park, juggle the grocery bags, and approach them.

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Love Will Tie the Slipnot

by T.F. Grognon

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/338577.html)

They’re headed for the edge. Arranged in a ring, slowly turning, the four of them shuffle and feint, yell and protest. A searchlight bisects the ring, back and forth, an anxious pendulum.

They’re all shouting. His name, others’ names, recriminations and accusations all spiral out over the harbor.

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Savior (tfw maybe bf)

by T.F. Grognon

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/333999.html)

“Hey, rent-a-cop!” the hot busker out front calls when Huck’s hurrying to clock in on time. “Back that ass up!”

The busker is obnoxious, and not that great at making money, thanks to his tendency to mock passers-by and question their taste when they try to make requests. He’s also remarkably handsome, if you like dark olive skin, a large assertive nose, a short shiny black beard, bottomless brown eyes under sleepy curved lids, and absurdly long lashes.

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Queen of Come-What-May

by T.F. Grognon

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/302997.html)

“We must train people who will devote the whole of their lives, not only their spare evenings, to the revolution.” – Lenin, 1900

1934: Maidens in the woods

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The Lavender Menace

The Lavender Menace stood silhouetted against the city, hands on their hips, chest thrust out to show off the improbably deep V-neck.

“Citizen! How may I be of assistance?”