Archive for November, 2011

Pseudopod 257: In “The Poor Girl Taken By Surprise”

In “The Poor Girl Taken By Surprise”

by Gemma Files

‘Yet here we sit snug and warm and dry nonetheless, traders and settlers and immigrants bound for even more distant places alike, before this open, welcoming fire; here we may eat and drink our fill and go ‘round the circle in turn, each of we travellers swapping a story for our place beneath this roof ‘till morning. And I will be more than glad to add my own contribution to that roster, if only it should please you to bend your ear and listen.


Pseudopod 256: Repler


by Jonathan Lowe

Then, as he was about to ascend, he noticed the closed pantry door. Not wanting to, but feeling compelled, he paused to twist the knob and nudge the door open with his foot.

The shelves inside were lined with skulls. Canine and feline. Beneath a row of glasses were several stacks of torn magazines. Glossy photos of nude women. He kneeled almost involuntarily, reaching for a small skull among others. Practically indistinguishable, except by shape.

The skull of a baby.

Pseudopod 255: Flash on The Borderlands IX – It’s War!

Show Notes

Three original VETERAN’S DAY flash fictions about war – ancient, recent and omnipresent


By C. Deskin Rink

The first time I beheld my King was amidst the arcades and columns of Babylon beneath an aching, cerulean firmament. From the uppermost heights of the hanging gardens he descended, taking each megalithic tier in a single stride until his final step cracked wide the world itself. His bloodshot eyes stared out at me from beneath his golden crown: wide and perfectly round – bereft of lids, lashes or flesh. “Hail!” I cried out, “Hail! Our King is descended from on high to rule the Earth!” (Continue Reading…)

Pseudopod 254: The Blood Garden

The Blood Garden

by Jesse Livingston

So twice five miles of fertile ground

With walls and towers were girdled round:

And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,

Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;

And here were forests ancient as the hills,

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

She was alone when she died. (Continue Reading…)