Who says a pyromaniac can’t be a poet? First published in May 2017 by Liquid Imagination. Unfortunately the publication is no longer available.

Pyrophilia

by DL Shirey

The beauty of an unstruck wooden match is in the potential. It is uncomplicated. Scratch one on any surface to achieve resolute combustion. Simple phosphorus atop sulphur, like a beautiful redhead wearing a pale beret. She will dance, unbridled, in her full yellow skirt, twirling with wide folds of fire; an impetuous flare that calms, without fail, to flame.

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Okay, two stories in a row published with ‘dead’ in the title; all those years listening to Jerry Garcia must have had some impact. Anyway, I’m grateful to Cafe Aphra for featuring this flash story in May 2017. It’s a cautionery tale for those who feel like they’re being worked to death. Sometimes it’s hard to tell when the work day ends and your other life begins.

When I Called in Dead

by DL Shirey

The boss was angry when I called in dead again. I could tell by the way he didn’t respond, gave nothing but a frustrated huff and clattered the phone back to its cradle. Still, there was too much undone to take the day off, so I went to the office as usual.

First stop, coffee, but no one would serve me. Not even Yolanda who knew my usual. She didn’t even smile, in fact yelled NEXT to my face and beamed at the fellow behind me. He pushed me out of line.

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Zetetic: a Record of Unusual Inquiry published my short story in June 2016. It was originally titled “An Occasional Family Photo,” but the editor wanted me to change the name. It was easy to agree, “The Dead Fund” was the working title of the piece before it was finished. Personally, this story sets a high bar and motivates me to write its equal.

The Dead Fund

by DL Shirey

I’ve lost hold of time these days. It’s been four months since Pops passed, but the house looked nearly the same. Six years of peeled paint and tarred-over roof since the last time I saw it in person. Sis sent an occasional family photo, but the house was only a backdrop. I remember thinking how the people seemed smaller posed in the front yard. Now the house itself looked small as I stood in front of it.

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The story itself may be surreal, but the location is authentic. It takes place at a tiny square in the Park Blocks of downtown Portland, Oregon. Every Day Fiction originally published the tale in June 2017.

Roosevelt’s Long Shadow

by DL Shirey

It is nearly impossible to remain motionless, though I’m persistent in trying. Even as I hold my breath and concentrate away a blink, my crossed leg tics. It’s barely perceptible, but the slight tide of blood causes my dangling foot to bob.

How can I turn invisible when I can’t stop moving?

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You know how automation is displacing many American jobs? This is what I wanted to write about, but at the time, I needed a good jolt of coffee to kickstart the first draft. 365 Tomorrows published this short story in December 2016. How do you like your science fiction, black?

The Box Adjacent

by DL Shirey

I pound shots of espresso until my vision tinges brown as a sepia tint. The tip of my fat finger barely touches the skin of my thumb through the hole in the handle of the tiny cup, small and fragile like half an eggshell, yet it nests another stiff dose of caffeine. I need more. I won’t be ready to work until my teeth are coated with gritty film, that welcome friction between enamel and lips to help me force a smile.

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When you read the comic perspective of the folks at Intrinsick Magazine, you’ll understand why they decided to include my story in an issue released on Easter Day 2017.

1-800-CALL-GOD

by DL Shirey

Duìyú zhōngguó qǐng àn yī. Pulse dos para español. For English, press three.

Thank you for calling 1-800-CALL-GOD. Our menu has changed, so please listen to the entire message before making a selection. At any time you may repeat this message by pressing four on your telephone keypad.

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Farther Stars Than These published my short sci-fi story. Perhaps story is too strong a word since it is more a snatch of an otherworldly transmission.