Monday, November 16, 2009


Double-post today, to make up for yesterday's Travel Holiday.


“Eureka!” he cried, trailing papers behind him.  He held a scorched alembic in one hand.  His beard still smoked, his hair a matted birds-nest atop his head.  He grasped my arm, his palms sweaty.  “Listen!  The secret!  I’ve found the secret!  You don’t have to turn anything into gold.  It’s already gold!  All of it!  It’s all made of gold!”

I shook him off, hurried away.  He shrieked away, down the street.

My skin itched where his dirty hands had touched.  I scratched at the spot, felt it peel away in thin strips, saw the metallic sheen glinting from beneath…


Loren Eaton said...

Very. Nicely. Done.

Really nails creeping dread at the end, a surreal sense that things aren't what you always thought they were.

It's a little like Simon Avery's "Bury the Carnival." You may like it.

Scattercat said...

I'll have to check that out when I'm not at work and can actually listen. ;-)

I do wish Interzone accepted e-submissions. I like their stuff a lot.

Loren Eaton said...

Yes, it rather hurts to pay for that international postage.