In this Issue:
Soon, on clotheslines across America, will hang bedsheets dyed the new blue. Damp and dangerous sheets, waiting for the wind to whip them dry. —Buddy Russe, author of The Blue Revolution.
One:
The New Blue shipped too late for the Christmas Season. Despite the hype, the great promise became an unforgivable lie. People's anticipation warped into disappointment so intense and widespread there was serious discussion of postponing the holidays. Read more...
The forest is a loop. That much is now clear to you.
Ahead of you is your quarry, the great flightless bird that you are hunting, sword in hand, intent on cleaving its crested head from its thickly plumed body. But always it seems just beyond your reach, always it runs a little faster, pounding the trail with its enormous muscular legs, tearing up the ground with its giant claws, onward, onward, brilliant feathers streaming behind it in streaks of red and gold and black. You have been running forever, or so it feels at least; absorbed in the singular focus of the hunt, it only just occurred to you that the sun has not moved in the sky, the light in the forest has not dimmed, has maintained the same crepuscular quality of dappled half-light for as long as you can remember, Read more...
The Yellow Deer
The fossilized bonfire allowed the deer to come out of the fifth well's crevice and penetrate the high, ovular, golden-tinted ceiling vault. Some supper stoneware and bloody arrowheads' entrails were hiding a yellow pencil, a yellow book, and a yellow eraser. The deer used the yellow pencil to color his fur and antlers yellow like the sun. The yellow book followed, offered as fuel to the fossilized bonfire. The yellow eraser acted as an annihilator of time and stirred the embers from the petrified bonfire's remains. A hesitant curl of smoke began to paint the walls tangerine. Some adipose, esurient tissues began playing the tam-tam on the rainscreen. Read more...
I have a domesticated ouroboros for a pet. I have named him OuroBoris, which is a pun on his common name, as an indication that he belongs to me and is a part of me, Boris, and because of the many affinities, connections, and similarities that we share.
Ouroboroses have a superficial resemblance to hoop snakes, but there are some obvious differences between them, both in appearance and behaviour. For one thing, a hoop snake eventually lets go of its tail, but OuroBoris always keeps his tail in his mouth. Also, hoop snakes are cold to touch and have a rubbery feel to them, whilst my ouroboros' body is warm and firm. The most salient distinction between them lies in their eyes. Read more...
Robot Wedding
Once, a robot was to be married, but when it tried to put on its gloves, its hands were so sharp they sliced right through them. With little time to spare (though more than it thought), the robot rushed to its car to get to the church on time, but with its circuits running hot, the fingers of its left hand electrocuted the vehicle. Immediately, it raised its other hand to hail a cab, but so eager was the automati, its hand, moving faster than light, ripped a hole in the fabric of space.
At this point, as you'll surely understand, the universe gave up the ghost, or rather sent it to that point physicists spend their lonely nights speculating upon, Read more...
AFTER
He was mauled by a rainbow that got out of hand. Occasionally, one comes upon a rainbow that has too much sass, the colors collide too angrily into each other. He goes now on jobs the union hand picks for him – light work after a misting, honing suspect rainbows birthed by holiday waterworks. It would not do to assign him the towering arch of a behemoth that leapt from a counties-wide thunderstorm. He understands his role, is glad there is a disability provision that keeps him occupied. Still, some nights he fingers his practice prism, imagines what once he was. Read more...
About Our Coffee and Other Fare
Please Note: All of the coffee served at The Irreal Cafe is fair trade, organic, shade-grown and not real. All of the food served at The Irreal Cafe is organic, vegan, locally sourced and not real. See "At Our Cafe" for more about what we would serve at The Irreal Cafe and how we would serve it if there were an Irreal Cafe.