"Party in Tiltsville, Florida," in Gargoyle Magazine
I wake up to the haze of morning sunlight blazing into my rental. Nine in the morning and already sixty-nine degrees. Shielding my eyes, I see the cover of the hot tub laying flaccid on the grass, the bubbling cauldron likely a mass lizard grave. I remember the laminated house rules:
WIFI NETWORK: NETGEAR_AC1900
WIFI PASSWORD: DaytonaB!tch
PLEASE TURN OFF AND COVER HOT TUB IMMEDIATELY AFTER USE
"Mieszko," in Twin Flame Literary
Whatever language they’re speaking sounds to the clerk like breakfast cereal swirled in a glass bowl.
“Do you have additional proof of residency?” the clerk asks, handing back the green card. More cereal as the son relays the question to the mother.
“Snap snap snap.”
“Social Security card.”
“Crackle crackle crackle.”
“Now I need the four pay stubs.”
“Pop pop pop.”