By Sarah Cooley —– Plyll had been in deep cover with the K’alopeon Observation and Infiltration Corps. for an entire planet-cycle, and they were hopelessly bored. They had originally volunteered for an assignment to the newly discovered planet XB-24357–the natives called it earth–because it had sounded like an exciting opportunity to finally get off their cramped, research-class vessel, and their only other assignment option had been a much colder planet with less moisture in the atmosphere. An all around bad time. But now, here they were stuck in a frustrating routine of putting on physical-enhancements, attending an academic institution, going through the motions of being a human…
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Her Babysitter’s a Vampire
(That’s it, that’s the joke, please don’t sue me for making a punny reference, Disney) By Sarah Cooley —– I suppose it was my own damn fault. That’s just what you get for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, you would think I’d know better by now, but I guess when I stopped maturing physically it also stalled my mental improvement. I was never a brains guy anyway, was always ready for a fight, less so for helping with math homework. Eh, I’m getting ahead of myself though. I suppose I should start at the beginning, when I first met Gloria, and defied everything my common-sense told…
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That Time I Almost Killed My Friend and That Other Time He Maimed Me; or, Childhood Memories Are Overrated
by Sarah Cooley I have a difficult time recalling my childhood memories. Not to say that I have amnesia, but most everything from during the first several years of my toddling existence just sort of blends together and coalesces into a sort of dreamy mess where nothing is definite or distinct. Sometimes this is annoying and disappointing, of course I want to remember my first time sledding or riding in a canoe, but even when trying to recall the memories as best as I can—I only ever seem to get vague a sensation of color and sound, like a blurry screenshot from an old foreign film. Other times I suppose my problem is a bit of a blessing in disguise—there are some events that I know happened back then that make…
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“You’re the only friend I’d pretend to be gay for.”
by a Friendly Neighborhood Queer ~~~~~~ “You’re the only friend I’d pretend to be gay for.” The way you say these words is friendly, you’re joking, being playful, trying to get a laugh from me. And I do laugh, your arm linked through mine. But on further reflection, it’s impossible for me to find this phrase funny. I don’t know exactly what you meant. I’m constantly trying to eke out the complex meanings in exchanged words, assigning too much purpose to each syllable. I have trouble seeing things at face value. You’d “pretend to be gay” for me. What does that mean? Are you comfortable enough around me to not feel threatened by my queerness? Do you think it’d be funny if we shocked and amused…
