H. Seitz
July 19, 2016
Fiction
Walter sat at his computer, staring at his novel in progress. It was nearly 300 pages long so far and all of it was crap. He’d always had problems writing. At first, he’d thought his problems might have something to do with genre, but everything he wrote ended up being in the same genre: crap. He’d considered that his problems might be related to length, that maybe he could sustain quality in shorter bursts. He’d switched from novels to novellas to short stories to poetry and the results were always the same: crap. Eventually, he’d done the only reasonable thing he could think of to do and quit. For seven years, he had abandoned his one seemingly feasible dream. You didn’t have to be physically fit or attractive or talented to write. All you had to do was to keep writing and editing, fixing your errors and improving…
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RK Galaga
February 14, 2016
Fiction
My prematurely white hair notwithstanding, I was now the hunk that I always knew I could be. When you have no job, you have time to spend 5 hours a day at the gym. Looking like a classical Greek sculpture was only a happy side effect of my efforts, though. I needed the practical aspects of my newly acquired strength to scale a glass Manhattan office building. A window-washer friend owed me a favor. A costume designer friend owned me another favor. When I put these two great tastes together, I got something better than a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. What I had was an idea for a super romantic gesture and the means to pull it off. Why be bitter about Valentine’s Day, when you can use the theme as a premise to win back the one that got away? Strangely, her boss…
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RK Galaga
July 3, 2011
Fiction
“Uh, eagles are protected by the guvmint,” Craig said with a mouth full of syrup. “You kill one of those, n’ you’ll end up in a federal prison being water-boarded 24-7 until you turn into a fish, or drown.” “No, man, they don’t put you in prison for killin’ eagles.” Phil help his coffee to his lips as he spoke. ‘They keep you submerged up to your neck in a swamp, like in Rambo, until all of the eagle’s powers are sucked out of you by leeches.” “So what yer sayin’ is, the only reason it’s illegal to hunt our national bird is cuz the govmint don’t want every crazy bastard in the country getting super powers from drinking eagle blood?” Camren shrugged. “We, that makes sense actually. It sure would be bad if them super powers fell into the wrong hands”. Craig, Phil and Camren were just about the…
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RK Galaga
January 13, 2011
Fiction
I never realized that my unconventional ability could be called a superpower until the day I used it to defend myself. The very large man pinned me against a cold, damp brick wall. The gun in my face kept me from thinking about how my leg was pressed against a filthy garbage can. I didn’t have any money, and I knew this was actually a bad thing if you are being mugged. When they find that their efforts are in vain, muggers tend to get cranky and frustrated and slightly trigger-happy. Thinking I was going to die anyway, I figured the least I could do was see to it that my attacker had a very uncomfortable get-away sprint. For a moment, I forced away the fear and allowed the adrenaline to focus all my energy on his insides. My concentration was dagger-sharp. Immediately, I saw the predator confidence fade from…
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