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Time Ravels by Ajayy Pattanshetty

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It has been too long since Aju visited his parents, and he is surprised by what he finds. Image generated with OpenAI By the time the taxi turned into our street, the light had thinned to a pale winter gold. The driver slowed without asking. He had seen me sit up and look out properly for the first time since we left the airport. "This one?" he said. I nodded. The house looked smaller than I remembered and more stubborn. The gate still leaned a little to one side because my father had fixed it himself fifteen years ago and had never entirely forgiven any carpenter for existing. The upstairs grille needed repainting. The hibiscus bush beside the wall had gone wild. The brass number plate, which my mother used to polish with a devotion out of proportion to its purpose, still caught the light. I did not get out at once. All through the flight and the drive from the airport I had been telling myself practical things. Work had been relentless. Leave had been hard to coordinate. ...
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Something is Afoot by Brian Clark

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Scotty has escaped from his uncaring humans, but without his lifelong partner Angus. Image generated with OpenAI The moderator cleared his throat loudly and waited for the room to quiet down. "Hello, everyone. Welcome to another meeting of our little therapy group. First item of business: we've finally come up with a name for our self-help club. We're calling it Suddenly Single. I think you know why we picked that name." A scattering of awkward laughter echoed through the room, where several dozen participants lounged on the floor. "I see we have a few newcomers. Welcome. I'm sure you're still adjusting to life here at our migrant camp in the woods. You're all probably still recovering from your long, arduous journeys. Long, arduous and excruciatingly slow." More laughter filled the room. "For the newbies, I'm the moderator of these therapy sessions. You can call me Woolly. If any of you are ready to share your escape stories, we'...
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My Eyes Were Still Blue by Daniel Joseph Day

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A lonely young man has a medical condition that is causing him to gradually disappear. Image generated with OpenAI I've been turning invisible since I was thirteen. I swear it began when Rebecca Styles rejected me in front of the entire class and I'd wished so hard to disappear. I explain this to the doctor; she laughs. 'No, no.' she shakes her head then leans forward on her chair. 'It's a degenerative condition, quite rare, especially in males.' I peer down at my open hands; I can see my knees through them. I had waited till my twenties before seeking medical attention. I guess I was in denial, like a balding man refusing to notice the slow recession of his hairline. 'So how long before I...' I begin a question I don't want the answer to. The doctor smiles sympathetically, places a firm hand on my knee and for a moment I feel solid again. 'How long before you completely disappear?' she sighs, long and thoughtful. 'It really depen...
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Hologram Sam's by John McAuliffe

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David considers a radical image overhaul at Hologram Sam's. Image generated with OpenAI David entered the studio and was met by a smiling man who offered his hand and said, "Hi, I'm Sam, and I am who I am, but you can be anyone." "Hi Sam, I'm -" "David. David Tipton." "Yes." "I have you right here." Sam raised the tablet in his left hand. "Come with me." Sam led David to the center of the studio, where they sat in clear acrylic chairs at a rectangular walnut table. "So, David, you're here about your chin," Sam said. "You have what some would call a 'weak chin,' and you'd like to turn that weakness into a strength." "Yes, that's accurate." "I have the numbers for you right here," Sam turned his tablet toward David and pointed to it as he spoke, "ninety-four percent of CEOs have a strong chin, ninety-seven percent of leading men have a strong chin,...
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Rise Up My Love By Philip Graubart

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A rabbi prepares her skeptical daughter for bat mitzvah while helping a devout terminally ill woman convert to Judaism. Image generated with OpenAI "Rabbi Judith. I just... I think I might be dying." Kristine spoke in a clear, bell-like voice. I might even say healthy voice - not the kind of voice that's struggling to choke out her last words. Still, the sentiment didn't shock me. She was, in fact, dying. Just, from what I could tell listening to her breathe, speak, argue, sing, not right now, two in the morning, on the phone with her rabbi. Now sounded more like insomnia than the rare auto-immune disorder that we both knew would one day take her life. "Do you feel like this often?" I asked. "I mean that you're dying, in the middle of the night?" "Every night," she said. "This is just the first time I called you . I've run out of friends who'll listen to a lunatic complain about dying. I figure now that I'm Jewish, I...
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