dreamszilla

Bumbling gangsters Norm and Lefty try to dispose of a body in Tampa Bay, but things don't go as planned. Image generated with OpenAI Norm watched the corpse bobbing by the boat in the moonlit bay and remembered an old high school science class, the one where they made an egg float by putting salt in the water. Lefty reached out with the boathook and gave Mantini's body a hard shove. It went under, then returned to the surface like ice cubes in a rum and coke. "Thought you said this was gonna be easy." Norm poked Lefty and flicked his cigarette butt into Tampa Bay. Lefty rubbed his forehead as if it were a magic lamp with all the answers inside. "I dunno. He's supposed to sink. They all do." He stopped rubbing his head. "Every stiff I dumped in the Detroit River sank." He turned and looked up at Norm, his tight, untucked shirt climbing his round belly. Colorful birds and panda bears frolicked across Lefty's gut between the wo...

A Hungarian couple who have lost the spark in their relationship start taking daily walks that get them talking together again. Image generated with OpenAI The slip of paper in their mailbox was from the gas company. Gyuri already heard the news from their neighbor lady. The gas company was testing the new pipes installed last month across the district. Starting tonight, for one hour every night between 7 and 8pm, all the residents needed to vacate the building in case there was a gas leak. Gyuri walked up the three flights of steps. The elevator was too small since his hands were filled with grocery bags from the store on the corner. Once in the flat, Gyuri breaded the turkey from the butcher's and was just finishing cutting the spears of asparagus when Judit came home. She had been staying later at the university the last few weeks to grade papers. Because Gyuri was in the dissertation phase of his seminary degree, he worked in coffee shops around the district and h...

A story inspired by the Lamb funeral home scandal in which numerous bodies were cremated at once in order to boost profits quickly. Image generated with OpenAI We are seven. We were not meant to be burned together. Not like this. Not in this oven. Not in this place. Not stacked like refuse. Not shoved in haste, as if death were a shipment, a quota, a monthly target. And yet, here we are: pressed shoulder to jaw, pelvis to ribcage, cheek to calcifying spine. Bodies robbed of the rituals meant to separate us from meat . No solitude. No dignity. Only crowding in fire. And in the fire, something terrible happens: we wake. Gladys Ingert, 82 In life, Gladys was a florist who believed in the small mercies of ritual. Corsages for high school dances. Wreaths for funerals. Tulips, not lilies - those were too funereal for her taste, though she arranged them with grace when clients asked. She believed in soft scents, fine music, and written instructions. Now, Gladys's ribs ...

A small crew researching a distant human-habitable planet are cut off from communications with Earth, until a transmission arrives that reminds them of what they left behind. Image generated with OpenAI Seren looked up from his breakfast as Ellis's tray clattered onto the table. The other man dropped into the seat across from him, a frown marring his features. "What's Doc got for you this time?" Seren asked. "Rocks." Ellis hunched over his food, stabbing his reconstituted eggs with his fork. "Same as every other transmission. You?" "I'm still doing the river inventory." He could bore a person to tears with everything he was learning about this planet's waterways and the fish that inhabited them, but restrained himself for Ellis's sake. Lately, it seemed that talk of pH and solidity and different alien fish species only dampened his mood. "Makes you almost long for the days when Earth couldn't conta...