PDF - full anthology

310 Pages·2007·1.14 MB·English

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This PDF contains the entire text of Falling From the Sky, an anthology
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Falling From the Sky
An Anthology
Edited by Craig Quackenbush
Cover art by Chris Roberts
Another Sky Press
Portland, Oregon
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Printed in the United States of America
ISBN 0-9776051-2-4
First Edition, April 2007
Copyrights held by the individual authors
Used with Permission
Contact information for authors can be found at
http://www.anothersky.org/in-print/falling-from-the-sky-anthology/
Contact Craig Quackenbush at [email protected]
Cover artwork copyright 2007 Chris Roberts
Contact Chris Roberts at deadclownart.com
Design and layout by Kristopher Young
Contact Kristopher at [email protected]
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Another Sky Press logo variant (back cover) by Ryan Scott
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GF Halda Normal font by Lorenz Goldnagl
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Falling From the Sky brought to you by
Another Sky Press
P.O. Box 14241
Portland, Oregon 97293
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All Rights Reserved 2007
Please contact individual authors to request specific permissions
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psst! pass it on.
Falling Upwards
It was the last story.
I was deep into one long weekend in March—on the couch with
music in the background and blanket draped over my shoulders.
I stretched. Leaned back. The editing for Falling From the Sky
was done. It didn’t—it doesn’t—seem real. Over the course of
several months, a great deal of time and effort went into this
anthology. These stories, and this anthology, have become a part
of me.
I first discovered Another Sky Press back in the Spring of
2006. The concepts behind the press instantly struck a chord—it
was a new kind of publishing paradigm and I wanted in. I offered
my services as an editor and suggested a short story anthology.
It would give us the opportunity to showcase an ensemble of
writers, each with their own voice. In a burst of inspiration,
the title came to me—Falling From the Sky. It summed up
everything I wanted this anthology to be—a collection of prose
from beyond the mainstream, tumbling into the Press and onto
the printed page.
The stories filtered in from across the globe, the hearts and
minds of dozens of people combining into something wonderfully
diverse and imaginative, worlds within worlds. In these pages
you will find an eclectic assortment of short stories. You will find
from-the-street realism and gritty surrealism. There are tales
of heartbreak and loss, levity and whimsy, and the search for
higher meaning.
These authors and their stories fell directly into our lives here
at Another Sky. And your occasionally humble editor couldn’t be
more grateful.
—Craig Quackenbush, Editor
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Contents
001
Reflected John Hines Jr.
009
I'm Dreaming Of A White Christmas Tony O'Neill
015
Night Time Is the Right Time Mallory Small
023
A Regular Passage to the New Fiction Scott Wayne Indiana
029
To Waltz Kristina Jung
033
Camera Shy Henry Baum
041
Pillowcase Sherry Bryan
045
Red Janis Butler Holm
047
Family Dinner Daniel Scott Buck
053
Slipping Away Lindsay Bull
057
Stirred By A Passion Greg Gerding
061
World With A View Joe Shipley
065
Plastic Meow Chris Roberts
079
Taking Back Tom Kirsty Carse
085
Untitled Anonymous
087
The 838 Santi Elijah Holley
097
God on Television Carlton Mellick III
107
Drown Gina Ranalli
113
For You Marcela Albornoz
115
Outside Bradley Sands
121
Glimmer Steve Quinlan
125
Consumerism Jeremy Robert Johnson
131
Ending Children Play Matthew Pendleton
The Jukebox Started Playing Another
The Jukebox Started Playing 137
Thorogood Song Mark Brittenburg
Another Thorogood Song
151
Dumpster Meat Tom Thompson
155
Guerrilla Sex Generation Kenji Siratori
157
Abduction, Again Janis Butler Holm
159
Death In Large Numbers Stephen J. Anderson
173
A Particle Is Born David Borthwick
183
The Photographer Kristopher Young
191
For No One (Why Did It Die?) Greg Gerding
195
Thirty-Something Blues LeRoy K. May
203
The Waiting Room Madhvi Ramani
209
Jesus In The Driveway Sherry Bryan
217
Necrowave Oven Kevin L. Donihe
227
Nightmare Dreamscape Agni Kudra
233
You Get Nothing and You Like It Daniel Scott Buck
235
She Is His Story Paul Lumsdaine
249
Fuel Reno J. Romero
251
Thornbinding Kate Holden
253
Christmas Day Brad Listi
265
This Is Me Marcela Albornoz
269
Millicent Chris Roberts
275
Rocky Mountains Henry Milton
277
We Have Waited Santi Elijah Holley
289
Wilt Gina Ranalli
8
Reflected
John Hines Jr.
From what I can see of the level meter, I am being
recorded. That’s the best I can hope for at this point, so I won’t
worry about it. It’s not like I’m going to say anything profound
which needs to be entered into the historical record for the
twenty-first century. I probably won’t even say anything worth
repeating.
Alas.
I figure I’ve got about twenty minutes before things get so bad
I won’t be able to continue. Not to worry, I’ve already taken care
of the important things. Now I’m just waiting.
To my family and friends, I love you. I know it’s probably
too little, too late, but it is what it is. I could spend the next
few minutes talking about the past and how much fun I had
with each of you, but I’m not going to. I’d rather spend the time
trying to explain how I got to this point and why I did what I did.
Maybe something good can come out of this mess.
I wasn’t in the dorm when Michael Scoggins first concocted
morphete. I wasn’t even in the state. By the time I got back from
the Thanksgiving holiday, word of the new drug had spread to
the entire campus: staff, faculty, and all. That was, what, two
months ago? Yeah, that’s right. Seems longer. Anyway, I wasn’t
here that night. But my roommate had scored. Not a stash of the
stuff, but the recipe itself. It was easy to make and Todd was on
his second batch when I showed up.
I didn’t know what he was doing. There were boxes of
medicines, vitamins, cleaning products, and pool chemicals
spread all around the room. The table was clear, except for two
glass bowls, and a box of coffee filters. Todd was stirring some
disgusting-looking stuff in one of the bowls. I remember the way
he smiled at me when I walked into the room. Perfectly content.
Just a hint of amusement. All of my frustration with the mess
melted in his smile.
“What is it?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
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“Expansion of the mind,” Todd said. “Better living through
chemistry.”
Todd finished the batch and poured it through the coffee
filters. He began hanging the filters up to dry. I helped him with
this, seizing the opportunity to probe for more information about
the nature of his experiment. He said he couldn’t explain it, but
that I had to try it.
Todd held a small bowl of purple powder out to me. “Take just
a pinch and sprinkle it on your tongue. Just a touch.”
Now, I’d tried a couple of mind-altering substances before
this. Ecstasy, pot, and everybody’s friend, Mr. Beer. So, I wasn’t
exactly reluctant, but something in that smile made me think
of an old Twilight Zone episode. I should have known. I put my
fingers into the powder and pinched a little. The grains were
large, like sand or sugar. Crystalline. I tilted my head back and
let it fall onto my tongue.
Nothing happened. I looked at Todd. “What?” I asked.
“You’ll see.” He laughed as if this was the funniest joke in the
world. Looking back, I guess it was pretty funny.
I still didn’t feel anything. It tasted kind of like I would expect
powdered pickles to taste. Not bad, but not something I’d eat
just for the flavor. I waited, but still nothing happened. “How
long do I have to wait?”
“Any minute now,” Todd said. That same knowing smile was
on his face.
I got busy cleaning up the room. I cleared a pile of empty
boxes and was reaching for a box of children’s cough drops when
it happened. I was looking at the familiar package and then I
was seeing something else entirely.
“Now?”
I nodded. I looked at the box. I could see it. All of it. Every
single detail. The crisp detail of the logo, the depressions in the
cardboard where the expiration date had been stamped. The
bulge in the end of the box where the flap had been glued shut.
I could see beyond that, too. There were hills and valleys in the
paper surface of the box, tiny imperfections in the plane which
weren’t normally visible. A vast landscape which had never been
fully explored.
I forced my eyes to refocus on the box as a whole. It appeared
different than it had before. Now the pristine white surface was
cut and sliced by lines and arcs of color. I don’t know how long it
2