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


By C. Deskin Rink.

Mr. Rink has previously appeared on Pseudopod with episode #186 – “Ankor Sabat”. A sequel to it, “The High Priest”, appeared as episode #35 of the (Cast Macabre podcast). He has an upcoming story, “Kingdom of Sorrow,” in the Dark Tales of Lost Civilizations anthology.

Read by V.O. Bloodfrost, who previously read the Podcastle Miniature #65 “Blood Willows”. He can be contacted at his Twitter @VBloodfrost.
“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!””


By Edward McDermott

While the story is fiction, the events it describes are all real: Dresden, 84 avenue foch, 93 Rue Lauriston, and Number 21 Rue le Sueur

Read by Ben Phillips.
“”We had received several reports about a doctor in Paris who was part of the resistance. Dr. Eugene of the resistance cell code named Fly-Tox. He was one of many, and we were told to concentrate on the Red Orchestra, that was the Communist spy system and resistance system in France. Your British and American agents were simply not that important.

“However, Robert Jodkum of IV-B4, the Jewish Affairs Department of the Gestapo, learned from an informer that a “Dr. Eugène” was helping Jews get out of France and flee to Argentina. Jodkum was a bit of martinet, and the thought of anyone escaping drove him into a rage. The informer led him to the barbershop of a lowlife called Raoul Fourrier, who was directing people to the ‘escape route’. Jodkum arrested Doctor Marcel André Henri Félix Petiot. We held him in Fresnes prison south of Paris for several months.”

Johnson looked bored.

“The problem was that Fourrier knew nothing, and Petiot wouldn’t talk. There was no proof of any escape line. We tracked several people who supposedly used this line to disappear, and disappear they did, but they never turned up anywhere else.”


By Aaron Ashley Garrison

Click his name for his website. Aaron also blogs at Synchroshock.

Read by Dominic Rabrun. Click the link under his name to visit his blog, Sketch Banquet.
“‘These little rabbit’s feet, on my neck? They mean I’ve killed a man. Men. And I don’t regret nothin. It was war.”

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…)