Archive for May, 2012

Pseudopod 283: Dust Bunny

Dust Bunny

by Matthew C. Dampier

‘So you have a handle on it?’

‘She won’t be dropped. You have my word.’

‘I’ll be here until tomorrow morning. You remember how to make a bottle, right?’

When she hung up, I took a bag of breast milk from the fridge and ran it under hot water. I filled a bottle and put it outside the hole in the hope that she would come to her senses for a nice hot meal. I laid the bait and prepared for a stakeout, dimming the lights and moving my chair back to where she wouldn’t be able to see it. I drank quietly and cracked each new can under a towel to muffle any noise that might startle her back into the walls.

Pseudopod 282: Flash On The Borderlands XI – Fearful Fashions

Show Notes

Three flash fictions about the sharpest cut on the newest thread, the latest craze that’s all the rage …


by Guy De Maupassant

The child was born in an open field, and when the weeders saw it, they fled away, screaming, and the report spread that she had given birth to a demon. From that time on, she was called ‘the Devil.’ (Continue Reading…)

Pseudopod 281: The Women Who Watch

The Women Who Watch

by Thomas Owen

Translated by Edward Gauvin


‘Do you know that woman?’ he asked the waiter.

‘What woman?’

‘The one in the corner just now.’

The waiter gave the man a look as if he were joking, and assured him no one had been sitting there. He seemed sincere, and gave no reason to believe he’d been in cahoots with the woman.

Of course something had to burst his bubble. At the foot of the abandoned chair, he spotted the forgotten shopping bag. Out peered the green of leeks, wrapped in newspaper.

The man didn’t insist. He was too happy to have escaped the evil spell.

Pseudopod 280: The Meat Forest

The Meat Forest

by John Haggerty

Dmitri laughed in my face. ‘Who is going to stop me? I do what I want.’ He looked out into the drizzly evening. ‘I can get you out of here. Do you want to go?’

‘What? Out of the camp? How?’

‘How do you think?’ He nodded toward the gray forest that crowded the perimeter, where the electrodes got too weak to keep it out. ‘Through that.’

‘Through the forest? I thought it was impossible.’

Dmitri tilted his head up. Beneath his jaw were tattoos of two men’s heads, done with red and black ink. Their faces were contorted in an expression of horror; their eyes closed. He pointed to them. ‘Do you know what they mean?’ he asked. I shook my head. ‘I’ve gotten through it twice. The only man in New Russia. I’ll take you.’ He paused, looking me up and down. ‘It’s probably a lost cause. I don’t think you’ll make it. But if you’re interested, come to my hut tonight.’

I looked back out at the forest. It wavered in and out of focus in the rain, gray and silent. When I turned back around, Dmitri was already gone.