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For a moment, what appeared to be a trash bag drifted across the dome of the sky. There was silence, except for a whisper in the breeze, and the valley seemed like a pleasant place to be. Two sparrows flitted after each other in the topmost branches of an aspen. They took turns repelling and appealing to one another, playing at their game of love. That morning, they had watched a woman pass under the grove of trees, and had not seen any living creature since. They were foreign to the valley, ...

Three grapes remained on a silver plate in the corner where a rat now hoisted his porcine body. The plate's edge gave with his weight and the black beads of his eyes followed the grapes across the floor of the cell until they came to rest under the cot where the simulacrum lay motionless. For all the world he appeared to be taking a siesta to settle his gorged stomach, but the black beads held the truth of the matter. The creature quivered and squeaked in pursuit of its meal, leaving a damp p...

The cat was purring in the hallway. It knew only of itself, for it was blind. A large stew simmered on the stove and the air was filled with warmth. Crucifia walked below in the empty street, on her way to the butchery to supplement the stew. The celestial light had been filtered through a lens of blue-black, and an army of confetti lay dead on the pavement. No celebration had taken place but in the dreamy mind of a girl who lived on the twelfth floor. She had retreated from her usual post at...

"I don't care what it says on the label, just as long as it tastes right." The one at the bar showed a carious mouth to his victim. He had learned to look away when he smiled, because as surely as he did the smile would drop from his victim's face. His mouth was a charnel house, a morbid burial ground for health. One day he would win the lottery, and he would have all of them replaced. He stretched his lips back over his teeth and looked into the mirror that flowed across the wall behind the ...

"I don't care what it says on the label, just as long as it tastes right." The one at the bar showed a carious mouth to his victim. He had learned to look away when he smiled, because as surely as he did the smile would drop from his victim's face. His mouth was a charnel house, a morbid burial ground for health. One day he would win the lottery, and he would have all of them replaced. He stretched his lips back over his teeth and looked into the mirror that flowed across the wall behind the ...