EXCERPTS

excerpt from Feeder Fish

Becky looked at couples that walked past. Almost all of them held overstuffed, oversized, ill-proportioned stuffed animals. She wished she could trade the fish for a stuffed Pink Panther, something that when it was over would be easy to burn, easy to discard and forget, but instead he won her fish. Two gold, slimy fish. Brother and sister no less. She would have to name them, feed them and love them.
"I want you to know you have ruined my life," she said into the bag, quiet enough.
"What do you want to name them?" he asked. The two sat down on a bench.
"I don't know," Becky said.
"Come on," said Thomas.
"No really," she said. She looked into the bag, "I have no idea."
"Well, the bigger more golden one is the boy right?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"So what's a good name for a boy goldfish?"
"I don't know Thomas," she said, "this is stupid."
"Stupid?"
"They wont remember anyway."
"Well you name one and I'll name one. Okay?"
"Sure."
"Which one do you want to name?"
"I don't know."
"Okay I'll name the boy then."
"Okay, good."
"His name will be Dan, and the little one?"
"I really have no idea," she said and looked at Thomas.
"What's wrong Becky ?" Thomas said. "You've been acting strange since we won the fish."
"We?"
"You helped?"
"Did I?" she said.
"Yes, of course," he looked down, "geez Becky what's your problem?"
"I just want to go home."
"Alright, we can do that," he stood up. She hated how nice he was. She watched his strawberry hair sort of plop when he walked. "We should get some fish food on the way home," he said glancing at his watch, "there's a pet store on 3rd and Bennet that should still be opened."
"Okay," she said.
"Do you want to go on a ride?" Thomas asked.
"The ferris wheel," Becky said. She smiled at him "as long as you hold the fish."
"I will," he took the fish from her and looked into the bag. Through the plastic his eyes looked like they were the size of avocado pits.
The Ferris wheel wasn’t scary, but Thomas and Becky's hands were in each others like shoe laces for the whole of it. All she could think about were the fish in the bag and how awful it must be to have no memories. They would have to go home with her and she knew this. She would have to feed them little flakes that smelled like dead fish and they would soon smell too, and she would have to put them in a glass to change their water, and drink out of that same glass later, buy them a castle to swim through, watch them in the morning while her eyes still burned from pulling herself from bed, she would have to look at them with her first cup of coffee. This was all she could think of on the Ferris wheel. That and what would happen if they fell from Thomas's lap, landing on the ground with a splat, like a water balloon, next to a child who would try to scoop their shuttering, suffocating bodies up with bare hands.
On the way to the parking lot Thomas grabbed Becky's wrist and looked down at her watch. "We can still make it to the pet store if we speed," he smiled.
When they got into the car he handed her the slimy bag of fish. The one Thomas had labeled the boy was much bigger than the other, much lighter in color also, the girl was small and red in color. Becky thought she would call her Jane because she was so plain and ugly. She was letting the bag touch her stomach now, it leaned on her. She took the other hand to squeeze the bag. It seemed like the plastic had gotten thinner since she had been given the ugly things.
"Do you want to come in?" Thomas asked her as he parked. Becky nodded. She placed the fish gently on the seat she had been sitting on. She closed the door and waved as she walked away.
The pet store smelled like piss to Becky, old animal piss and hay.
"It smells in here," Becky whispered to Thomas.
"What did you think? It would smell good?"
"I don't know," she said.
She picked up the only really plain looking castle the store had. It was brown.
"Hey Thomas," she shouted across the empty store. He walked over. "Let’s get this for Jane," she said.
"Oh you named her?"
"On the way over."
"How cool."
"Yeah, I guess."
Thomas picked up some goldfish food and lay it on the counter next to the bowl and rocks he had collected, Becky placed the plain castle next to them.

On the way home Thomas made some strange comments about how he felt this was very special for their relationship. That "maybe someday it would be more than just fish they would be buying castles for". She almost threw herself out of the car.

-Rory Adams-Cheatham

gender frankensteins

let's break into the universal
laboratory of gender
and mix things up.

quiet now.
yes dust that off.
haven't used it
in years.

i'll give you one tit for
that goatee you got going there.
one testicle for those
long lovely mascara-friendly eyelashes.

while the lightning crashes
let's show up all those forms
we've ever had to check boxes on.
one or the other. one or the other.
all our lives.

let's experiment.
let's go between.
let's try something new.
let's be the mad anti-scientists
of being either or neither
or both.

all while they are outside.
lighting their torches.
collecting their mob.

enraged we are taking away
their simple system of
pronoun usage.

horrified at the possibility
of not being able
to know just where
to place us.

let's run now. hurry.
down the corridors.
into the night.

let's meet up
at the village pub.
let's order a round.
let's raise our glasses.

to feeling a little more
comfortable in
our skins.

to never forgetting
that the moral
of the story
goes like this:

the real monsters.
are those outside.
those with the pitchforks
of right and wrong.
those howling
and screaming.
thirsty for
our blood.

-Lesley Kartali

Hassle-Free Sex!
Actual headlines and opening words from January 2005's British GQ Magazine

Hassle-Free Sex!
How To Steal
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Business Special!
Trade Secrets,
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And
Out-Of-Office Sex

"Drugs Right Hookers Left"

The GQ Complaint:
Women In Denim

This month
photographer Bob Carlos Clarke
unveils "Love Dolls Never Die",
a study of women as objects.
Delights include fetishised females...

Q:
How come women
love to panic
like maniacal birds,
only to recover
from their hysteria
minutes later;
and why
is it that
usually unflappable men
find this
so hard
to ignore?
A:
Because,
as an over-caring man,
you suffer
from
Female Contagious Stress Syndrome.

If you are
reading this magazine
you really should
be feeling
exceptionally good
about yourself.

Big car, small dick.
Big feet, big dick.
Gorgeous girlfriend, big dick.

Easy Lay
Or

Easy Life?

[She] is so tiny--
not just small, but
delicate, wispish--
that you'd have to be
even more
of a wimp than me
to feel intimidated
by her.

Next time...
a young female snowboarder
asks you
if you have
a mountain in your pocket,
don't disappoint her.

Britain's Biggest-Selling
Quality Men's Magazine.
Voted Magazine Of The Year.

-Vee Levina