Gaurav Monga’s marvelous and strange fragments have the feel of being found as a sheaf of unbound, unnumbered pages in a yellowing envelope, laying perhaps on an otherwise empty shelf at the back on an abandoned safe-deposit vault. They tell of a lost city of self, ancient excavations, and half-glimpsed memory.
Jen Burke Anderson returns to The Fabulist with this biting little satire of our app-driven virtual society, and the blithe replacement of authentic human connections with market-driven user experiences.
“Carnations, Pigeons,” by Bainbridge Island poet Amanda Williamsen, finds a hapless heroine drifting skyward each night, her heaviness draining from her head like sand. Mornings, she wakes startled, fallen, back in bed. She wonders if her problem might be gas.
“There once was a polar bear who roamed the great north accompanied by the clouds, his closest friends.” In two new 100-word stories, California author Heather Bourbeau builds a bridge between myth and time.
On the heels of the American Thanksgiving holiday, Britain’s L.P. Lee delivers a timely — and richly told — fable of power and abuse, and asks uncomfortable questions about abundance, scarcity, appetite and satisfaction. Her work is exquisitely illustrated by UK artist Annie Ridd.
Boise, Idaho, author and reference librarian Grove Koger brings us this heady, moody, mythic bit of verse, to inspire your own musings.