by Himawari (ヒマワリ) illustrated by A.Sammich (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/300025.html) It was the beard. It usually is. I saw him at the pool, at the end of a very long conference day, the kind of day so long you don’t end up wanting anything but to get some lousy vending machine snacks and to watch something junky […]
Author Archives: ssbb-admin
25
Feb
Railfans
Isaiah startled back to alertness when the shop bell jingled. It almost never jingled; the only reason the Rook City Miniature Railyard stayed open the few days it did was because he had nothing better to do. Not many people in downtown Rook had an interest in model trains, but the building had been paid for before the bigger, fancier leases moved in, so whenever the mood struck him Isaiah would head down and open the shop for a few hours to process customer orders or dust the shelves or whatever else he felt like. He straightened his shirt and put on his best niche-retail smile.
25
Feb
Woodward Avenue
“Don’t mind the mess,” I said as I opened the garage door. “I don’t come out here very often.”
Nick shook his head with a sad frown. “I don’t see why not, if you’re telling me the truth.”
I grimaced as I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. Summer had decided to come early — very early — and the June day was burning hot. “It’s complicated. There’s a lot of memories tied up in this.”
“Yeah, but it’s a Chevelle, dude. A goddamn 1970 Chevelle SS. You’re a fucking idiot to let it rot for five years.”
25
Feb
Five Hours to Chicago
It was a cold Monday morning somewhere in the middle of Michigan. We’d crossed over the Canadian border the night before on our way from Vermont to Chicago. It was something like ten hours from home and five hours to our destination, but my eyes hadn’t wanted to stay open any longer and Elliot couldn’t drive. I’d found a rest stop that didn’t look terrifying and parked my twenty-year-old Astro Van (named Francis) away from the building so we could nap. He and I had huddled up together after pushing the bench seat flat, nesting under an old sleeping bag.
I think we were somewhere outside Flint, but the only thing I knew about Flint was that it was once on the FBI’s most dangerous cities list. I assumed Elliot didn’t know that, or maybe didn’t know where we were, or I doubted he would be sleeping. I was too tired to be anxious. I guess that didn’t really matter. No one had broken into the car and murdered us for the six hours we’d been parked.
25
Feb
Flashes
My life changed the night David Copperfield made the Statue of Liberty disappear on TV. I was in my pajamas, sick with strep throat, and I hadn’t left the house in over a week. My throat felt like a ball of steel wool had been shoved into it and left to rust. It hurt to eat. My eyes were dry and scratchy.
But there was Copperfield, larger than life, and that man knew how to do dramatic. So helicopters were circling over the water, bright lights made Liberty glow like daytime, and intense music blared, like in a scary movie. I know I had a fever, and that I tend to hallucinate when I’m sick, so my memory of it isn’t quite right. But here is what I think I saw: There was a pause, like a skipped heartbeat, and then the statue was gone. I thought I’d seen a miracle.
25
Feb
Boys Keep Fucking Up My Car
“Hey, I know a thing or two about cars.”
Gabriel kept his expression pleasant, neutral. “Do you,” he said, keeping his voice as noncommittal as he could while at the same time yelling over a shitty club backbeat. When he’d started sneaking into clubs at seventeen, using his older cousin’s ID, no one had told him the real crime would be that he’d become sick to death of it all by the time he could do it legally.
25
Dec
Diamonds in His Pockets
by Renaissance Makoto J (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/293183.html) “It’s a silly tradition, don’t you think?” asked Brighton. Unlike his brothers — who were both blond and solid — he was thin and pale with ink-black hair that fell around his ears. He would be eighteen in six months and that was causing him problems. “And why me? […]
25
Dec
Holding Out
by Kougyoku (紅玉) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/293493.html) It was late in the evening. In the kitchen an empty pizza box sat next to a stack of dirty dishes. Through the door the living room lay empty, with the TV on standby and an open DVD case on the floor beside it. All life in this flat, it […]
25
Dec
Our Lives in These Empty Spaces Aside
by shukyou (主教) illustrated by Tamago (卵) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/294307.html) My name is Rainer, and I’m an alcoholic. It’s how stories start, if you’re one of us. Hell, if you’re one of us, there’s no other way a story can start. My name is Mary, and I’m an alcoholic, and here’s the time I got fired […]
25
Dec
Everyone goes through the door
by Hyakunichisou 13 (百日草 十三) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/294425.html) Peter wouldn’t have recognized what the man was doing if he hadn’t seen it done before. Lips briefly moving, eyes briefly closing, a lingering touch of fingertips to the metal in front of him. A smile warming the man’s face, a little hopeful, a little wistful. Then he […]
25
Dec
Terra Incognita
written and illustrated by Iron Eater (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/295827.html) The problem with bandits, Riaag mused to himself as he stirred the pot, was that they were just too damn stupid to know when to quit. Someone who stole to feed a hungry mouth could be converted, and someone who fought because they were scared could be […]
25
Dec
The Last Battlefield
by Kagaku no osomatsu (科学のお粗末) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/295942.html) The ride to the palace took Gar three tedious days from the coast through the Clairmarais forest. His knee had been bad these last few months. Every village he passed through brought out the usual gawkers. At least the monks of Saint Bertin only turned their heads away […]
25
Dec
Throw away these numbers
by Himawari (ヒマワリ) illustrated by EMINA (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/296692.html) Cameron Darling figured it was high time he went out for a drink. Sixteen months and three days without Sophia, now, Cameron thought as he got into a tram car toward colony center. Sixteen months, three days, and two hours, if he was specific, and yes, he […]
25
Dec
My Life in a Blueberry Pie
by Dr. Noh (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/296881.html) 1965 It’s summer in Iowa. The earth is black and green like my father’s tartan. He clings to our Scottish heritage the way my mother clings to Catholicism. Neither are entirely welcome in our small town. My own clinging secret would be considerably less welcome. I stomp along the path […]
