Razor Dildo

Contributor: Kyle Yadlosky - - “Just let me out, baby,” my girlfriend, Trisha’s voice drifts from the bathroom. “I think I’m late.” My back is pressed against the door so she can’t escape, legs squared. “No, no,” I say. “Let’s not call it, yet. It just hit midnight.” “Come on. Let me out. You know nothing bad’s gonna happen.” “That’s the demon talking.” Through the door, I hear her sit on the toilet. She sighs into her hands. “You might wanna take off your panties,” I suggest. She huffs at that. Then, her breathing shakes, breaking into sobs. She hicks and gasps, and I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. Shattered breaths piece together out of her mouth. She sobs and wails in low tones. Then, the crying turns to panting, then laughing. Then, she cackles. The cackling rises, cut by quick inhales. She screeches toward the...

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Author: Kyle Yadlosky

Contributor: George Sparling - - I’m Ted Black and that voice, a surveillance technique, as if thrown by a ventriloquist’s between my apartment’s walls, down my toilet, into my food, shoes, sheets, between my toes, between my teeth while I floss, beneath my feet as I walk, under my flesh, down my throat, into my spleen and prefrontal cortex; as yet I can’t shake it loose, that metallic, asexual digitalized voice as I saunter crosswalks, and traffic, it reverberates off bumpers, infinitely repeating that three-word phrase, “Ted Black’s Shit”; this isn’t a common auditory hallucination, today I get off my butt and refuse to rot anymore, listening to the voice’s taunt. I’ll hunt it down and send it to hell so it’ll never say, “Ted Black’s Shit” except to the devil below. It’s real, I should know: I read Wired magazine, DARPA...

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