Issue Fifty-five, June 2014

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Tank Full of Fumes, Rhoads Brazos
“Johnathan’s smile sank into a frown. What was wrong with her? She’d had a servo cluster lock up last June and it had been something like this, but she’d had the common sense not to walk around on it. She Frankensteined forward, with her legs stiff and knees locked. She bobbled left and right, into the side table — its lamp toppled to the floor and krished into shards.”

San Francisco, Kristen Hatten
“We were both on the wrong side of the fence. Or the right side, depending on how you looked at it. I wasn’t worried about cops finding out I didn’t have a permit. By the time they figured it out, I’d be dead. Just had to get rid of this jerk.”

. . . leave a message, Doug Mathewson
“Heaven’s not like you might think. Nothing at all like those cartoons of people with wings wearing white robes and standing around on clouds. Maybe it was like that once, but not now.”

Hurrah Boy, Madeline Weinland
“The chants had changed themes over the years. When he first began, there were chants to change the law, saying that it was unconstitutional. Then they became purely religious, as the lobbyists gave up and the pious took over. Recently, there was a strange mix of all types of protest. Religion, law, and social justice blended together, shouted by an array of clergy, families, confused high schoolers, and impassioned loners.”

Cover art: Robot 5: Rupert, Kris G. Brownlee

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