"My! It is ripe tonight," Phoenicia said to me as we were rolling out of the garage. She lit up one of her fat, tapered Belicos cigars to cut the stench. "Yeah." I nodded and tried not to pinch my nose. I didn't ask for a smoke. She had been on the truck for years, and I didn't want her telling the gang I was too green to hang.My flash fiction story Cleaning Up is in the latest issue [Vol. II No. 9] of Alienskin Magazine, so head over there and read more. I really like what they did with the illustrations.
That issue is gone, and AlienSkin doesn't keep back-issues, but you can read the story here under "Short Shorts."
Posted by bill at April 3, 2004 03:48 AM