Flash: Garbage Day

Garbage Day

by Russell L. Burt

Kenneth was twelve when the significance of garbage day first struck him. That’s when it became his job to patrol the household’s trash bins, bag their contents, and then toss the bags into the huge plastic garbage can outside his kitchen door. Well, now it was a huge blue can. Back then it had been a couple of smaller, metal cans. But superficial differences aside, the result was always the same. The detritus that had accumulated over the week was gone, disappearing while you slept, as if by magic.

PseudoPod 070: Rapunzel’s Room

Rapunzel’s Room

By John Dodds

Read by MAinPA

In the showers later, she raised her right arm and examined her armpit minutely. Even after having shaved it yesterday with the LadyShave it still seemed hairier than it should. Normally, at worst, it was like the chin of a cartoon character like Desperate Dan or Fred Flintstone, a constellation of black dots. Now it was almost full length again. The hair had grown long enough to curl into a matted bush beaded with droplets of perspiration. It simply wasn’t possible. Unless it was caused by those vitamin supplements she had been taking. Those, and the performance enhancers so she could work out longer and harder.

Flash: I Am Nature

I Am Nature

by J.M. McDermott

Detroit is dying. All the ornamental structures from the glory days of American industry wilt in ruin. There’s one building — found it myself — where the roof caved in one winter. There’s a tree that used to be in the lobby — and it’s dead — but its children are growing there. The forest has taken over the lobby. Birds hide everywhere, in the trees and the rafters, and their shit covers everything, but their singing is so beautiful.

The Pseudopod Autopsy: John Carpenter’s Halloween

A shape in the distance, a killer in suburbia, a psychiatrist pushed to his limits and an innocent girl in the firing line. Halloween is one of the acknowledged classics of horror, the patient zero of slasher movies. Now, we take a look behind the scenes, examining how it’s structured, what it says about the times and crucially what makes it tick. Welcome to the Pseudopod Autopsy. Now glove up…