“Her tongue hasn’t always been this way. She’s pretty sure it was round and pink and human-like when she was born. It’s taken a steady diet of coffee and swear words to get her to this point, but now it’s unavoidable.” Ruth Crossman returns to The Fabulist with this chilling little fragment about the changes wrought by our bitterness.
A perfect romance or a claustrophobic prison sentence? Elizabeth Stix brings the inarticulate paralysis and stifling compromise of a suffocating relationship to lurid life in her reality-warping short tale “Gustavo and Emiline.”
By Abha Iyengar The humerus bone has ‘humor’ of a malignant kind, that which shows no restraint. It went jerking in another direction, that is, the direction of a no-no, towards the man with the blond hair. And… Read More