NUUSA White House

By:
On:
In: Fiction

We can’t envy our way into a better country, a better life, or a better partner. That path always ends in collapse.Continue Reading

Marisol's Apples Fascist Cosplay

By:
On:
In: Fiction

Her marriage was spiritually dead. She had nothing left for the fascist cosplay. Crossing Ashby was called suicide. She found life on the other side.Continue Reading

Get Me Out of Here

By:
On:
In: Fiction

No rules, no boundaries. Rules and boundaries are oppressive. Damian wanted to go where he wanted whenever he wanted. He wanted most to go where Inger was and get what was his.Continue Reading

Become the Democracy You Are Not Family Enough

By:
On:
In: Fiction

He crossed seventy feet and died—erased by the Citadel for wanting stew. But Silvia fed him anyway, setting a milk crate table with Berkeley Pier chowder and love. In seventy feet, he lost his name and found his family.Continue Reading

Are You a Woman pwnd

By:
On:
In: Fiction

She’s mine. I don’t care what the Hive says. I’ll walk through every door until I have her.Continue Reading

Damian's Camp Serenity Disrupted

By:
On:
In: Fiction

Damian knelt outside his tent, flicking the butane stove to life. “Want it hot?” he asked, holding out the pouch. Inger didn’t answer. She snatched the pho from his hand, tore the seal with her teeth. The scent of dried shiitake and star anise hit the air. She sat cross-legged, chewing—no spoon, no water, no ceremony. He watched, unsure if he’d just been insulted or initiated.Continue Reading

The Peel Room

By:
On:
In: Fiction

They call it triage, but it’s really the Peel Room—where autonomous humanoid robots like Mikako and Takuma are stripped of their silicone skins and routed for refurbishment or scrap. MKW110732 is back because her five-year lease wasn’t renewed. The return receipt reads: “customer’s requested persona overlay glitchy.” Damian logs her, tags her, and wheels her across the shop floor. She greets Mateo in Zapotec. Mateo hears sass. Damian hears snack cakes.Continue Reading

Sail the Brig

By:
On:
In: Fiction

Damian boards a submarine to escape arrest—but finds himself self-incarcerated in a debtors’ brig run by Saito-Gumi. What begins as a rescue becomes a reckoning. Surveillance, ritual, and the economics of dignity collide in this speculative arc set east of Richmond.Continue Reading

Vexton

By:
On:
In: Fiction

Sacrilege was served hot. Soup—thick with hominy, dried chilis, and joy—bubbled beside the manifesto. Someone brought ketchup. Someone said “meh.” And suddenly, the poopie face hour was in session.Continue Reading

Too Quiet East 16th Street

By:
On:
In: Fiction

The Hive didn’t catch the murder first. Mrs. Callow did—with garden lights, an analog heart, and habits too stubborn to forget. Jace’s blood had already dried across the truck’s dash, and Inger hadn’t heard a thing. By the time Morrow rang her bell, the street had pressure-washed its guilt and gone quiet again. Mikiko made coffee. Morrow asked questions. Inger reached for her binkie in Buckskin and tried to remember why grief felt heavier when silence followed it.Continue Reading