As William N. Robson used to say on the “Suspense” radio dramas, “Listen . . . Listen, then . . .” as we present a surreal, ultra-contemporary podcast by JoAnne Maffia. A pseudo-biographical narrative, it delves into the mind of a woman trying to understand her identity in a world that, she feels, forces her to defend and justify it. As she grapples with her creative demons, her mind has become a kinetic fortress leading to what appears to be . . . but that’s for you, the listener, to determine. Listen, listen then, to “Kinetic Fortress.” Originally broadcast on PRX, used here on FC with the author’s permission. https://www.refoundsound.com/radio-works “Practise07” featured art painting by Tadao Ando, https://www.deviantart.com/taodao/art/practise07-319848260
“Wash, Rinse, Dry… Repeat” by Zee Mink
Lie, then smile with penitent lips, as you continue to cheat Wash with repentance. Rinse with remorse, Dry tears of regret Repeat It is your anemic nature, your compulsive rogue swagger Coffee break room champion, scalawag bragger My own weakness, craving your wayward arms My insanity, always falling for your charlatan charms I am the princess of poor personal choices Never listening to the warnings of my inner voices My logical head knows, my deceiving heart excuses The blatant deception, the revolving heart abuses I tell myself to walk. NO RUN away and never look back He’ll change, this is the last time he’ll jump the loyalty track Truth be known, I am the genuine liar, the authentic phony I could have a steak, instead I feast on cheap baloney My table is set, same old menu, no wisdom served today Eating with a spoon of shame, digesting familiar foul play Zee writes from…
Keith Kennedy: Feeling the Angst
Too Busy for Suicide I’m awfully sorry to be awfulIt was the camera – you see it, in the corner I was afraid that if I didn’t fall in lineThey’d make me wear a rose-colored shirtThey’d make me kill my family So I said what they wanted to hearI told them of your discretions, making sureNot to elaborate too far, so theyDidn’t find out what horrible things you’ve doneTo my ass, in my mouth, while the others watchedThey are sorry, too, for doing what they had to. When Pink was Heart I craved your body like a mindNo matter where the dead birds fellI changed my course to walk behindI stared at skin ’till I grew blind And when you dressed I felt the flames …
“Broken” by Susi Bocks
What a freakish awakening this morning. My guts felt heavy, as if they contained weighted stuff like rebar with concrete. I felt sick but unable to purge because it would hurt more coming back up. “Why risk more injury?” I thought to myself. It was going to be an enormous challenge to make it through this day if this beginning was any indication. I pulled back the covers unmajestically to expose my left leg draped over the side, deftly anchored in between the mattress and box spring to help me propel upwards. It was not an easy feat. All the while, creepy flashbacks kept jutting into the brain space behind my eyes: struggling, hands, choking, bright lights, and a sense of foreboding as thick as pudding – a feeling of being under the control of another but not knowing who…
Breaking News at The Fictional Cafe
We’d like a few moments of your time to share some special Barista News with you. Even though we’re 100 percent volunteer, non-commercial, and free for everyone to submit and read, that doesn’t mean there aren’t people working hard to bring Fictional Cafe to you. So we want to introduce several people who are making, and have helped make, Fictional Cafe what it is today. Every creative work submitted to FC is juried by two or three baristas. In the beginning, six years ago, all of that work fell on two baristas’ shoulders – Jack’s and Caitlin’s. What’s truly wonderful is that we have attracted talented people in all of our creative categories who have a voice in choosing what we publish. They all appear on our Baristas page. The people you’re about to meet…
Hiding out in Bathrooms by Julia Hwang
I. Shame eating + the sterility of bleach = A well-balanced breakfast? I stuff Kit Kat wrappers in with feminine waste and wipe my hands of chocolate on too tight pants II. Scream and smash and scream some more and throw the vase’s remains against the door Icy water surges and deafens I recoil into a pool of red How shocking! That a hand holds this much blood That our pain could clog a drain III. DON’T DO IT Whoops too late I POP and SQUEEZE and SCRATCHwatching tiny pricks of blood bloom across my face I am bumpy, bitter ugliness I refuse to recognize her I dab away tears with salicylic acid I bury her with clay IV. I am grown I am a woman yet still, I hide out in bathroomsscarfing down deli meats wiping at my nose, sloppily I am a girl eavesdropping on whispers and giggles avoiding conference calls and confrontation drowning out crying babies, sirens wailing catching a breath always ashamed still alone Julia Hwang is an emerging poet writing from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Her work, which tends to be narrative, women-focused,…
“The Age of Light” – Reprising Our Interview with First-Time (And Very Successful!) Author Whitney Scharer
A little over a year ago, we published an interview with Whitney Scharer, whose novel had landed her a million-dollar book deal. Only problem was, we had to wait another year to read her book. At the time, we wrote: “Barista Rachael Allen meets the novelist everyone will be talking about. Whitney Scharer and her fierce protagonist are set to take the literary world by storm! At this time next year, Whitney Scharer’s debut novel, The Age of Light, will stare up at you from your nightstand. The book will not stare at you so much as, potentially, display a woman staring into the distance, anonymously cropped at the neck, with scenic Paris blurred behind her. As much as she hopes for something different, Scharer says wryly, audiences are familiar with this kind of book…
Charles Rammelkamp: History, Politics, and People
The Crud My mother called him “the crud,” my brother’s friend Alan. I’m not sure what she had against him, besides his lack of ambition – she was a schoolteacher, after all – Alan destined to work in one of the steel factories after graduating from high school – at least until the steel factories all closed. The Crud loved cars. He could tell you the make and model and year of anything with four wheels and an engine, sported decals of hotrods and muscle cars all over his school folders. He did speak vaguely of “joining the service,” as his older brother had, then having all his teeth pulled, dentures installed in their place, the stubby twisted teeth in his mouth, a source of private anguish. When my brother mentioned…
“Wuthering’s” – The Saturday Night Podcast
Hi, Podcast Fans! Last week our podcasters were from Australia. This week, they’re from England! Having creative people who present their work from around the globe is awesome for us, and awesome for you, too! This is a double treat for Fictional Café because tonight’s podcast, “Wuthering’s” is set in a fictional café as well! In the auteur’s own words: “A new scripted comedy podcast set in Wuthering’s, a fictional cake shop in St Paul’s, London. Mr Wuthering, Jack Hatton and Emily Richpin contend with contemporary life – and a 17th century ghost.” Herewith Season One, in six episodes. They’re each under half an hour, so imbibe as you wish, all at once or at your leisure. Wuthering’s is Classic British humour, so enjoy, you blokes! Production Notes: Mr Wuthering is played by Kit Smith,…
A Suspension of Disbelief: Lydia Kinney’s Art
Lydia Kinney lives and works in Greenfield, Massachusetts. She graduated from Massachusetts College of Art and Design in 2014 with a BFA in Painting. Lydia’s work focuses on spatial abstractions, forming tensions of interior/exterior environments. Subjects include windows and pillars into other planes, disintegrating color fields, formally ambiguous confetti, and plays of texture. The Artist’s Statement “My paintings function with haphazard visual structure and a focus on material. The composition is pivoted on stained substrates and poured surfaces. I push the compositions to balance a suspension of disbelief and a tangible acknowledgment of a made object. The dichotomy of drawn and painted treatments takes advantage of the depth and atmosphere implied by wet, amorphous forms and planes. “Rigid lines and shapes encounter these surfaces, holding up, constraining, destabilizing, and contradicting their preceding natural flow. The…