Issue Twenty-Two, You Pale-Ass Mofos

Jesus Christ, it gets hot in New Mexico. Although, it is summer, and I do live in the northern hemisphere, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. But I am a pale, pale man and numbers like the one on the cover terrify me.

Anyway, stories. We’ve got them. And they’re perfect for reading in the dark, air-conditioned corners of your domicile of choice. Or outside in the sun, if you’re one of those people.

Speaking of people, our first story, “Golden Hours,” comes all the way from Brazil, by way of California ex-pat Colleen Chen, and tells the tale of a man with a remarkable, if short-lived, gift. Next is the fairy tale retelling “Red,” by Christopher Owen, followed by the Catholic dogma retelling “Jesus’ Nephew,” by Joe Thompson. After that is the sad, creepy “Mammy’d Give Me Minds To Eat,” by Graham Tugwell, who wins the award for having the most porn star-like name we’ve ever published. And last, but certainly not least, is “Jolly Roger,” by Michael Sions, a story that expertly combines corpses, pirates, and insurance salesmen.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to board up the windows before the sun realizes I’m in here.

The online version of this month’s issue is here, and the .pdf can be downloaded by clicking here.

Ally Malinenko’s Arcade

Image courtesy 77krc

Our newest Brilliant Disguise story is out in the desert with nothing but a gun and an old man waiting for a train: “Devil’s Arcade,” by the illustrious Ally Malinenko, based on Springsteen’s “Devil’s Arcade.”

But it wasn’t, it was Bobby’s debt, I wanted to scream. Bobby who made the stupid deal in the first place. Bobby who was Jakob’s partner. Bobby who was my brother. Is, my brother.

You can read the whole story by clicking here.

We’d also like to take a moment to pay our respects to the late Clarence Clemons, fabled saxophonist and the rock of the E Street Band. I know we tend to worship Bruce Springsteen pretty hard around here, but Bruce wouldn’t be Bruce without Clarence. I’ve heard him say it himself at more than one concert.

You’ll be missed, Big Man.