Issue 7, Winter/Spring 2009

[It must have been the electroshock jumpstart.], by S. Jason Fraley

It must have been the electroshock jumpstart.  Or the dab of cologne to suppress the rot.  I didn’t know you were dehydrated, that it would have a narcotic effect.  You describe the moment:  a vertiginous reverberation, a giant lesion pierced by a dull needle, being pulled feet-first from a dream where you were undressing overly-modest succubi.  The one time you remember a heart beating to the cadence of monastery prayer.  Then amen, your sponge-cleaned skin suit failing to take root once more.  Not one hair stood stiff.  You are preprogrammed to reject the most essential organ.  But you must understand:  I have bet an afterlife otherwise.