SPEC*U*LA*TIVE 66

66 words. Endless possibilities.

Issue 12
 Table of Contents

Keep Falling On My Head Allen Ashley3

Elder Andrew Wheatley4
Road Impulse Freya Campbell5
Ghost Drivers Kim Mannix 6
Meeting Oscar Philip Berry.7
Abandoned Farm Thomas Locicero.8
A Post-Disaster Story Rhys Hughes.9
Pickpocket Fred Rock..10
Snowblind Photokeratitis Gerard Sarnat11
Nature JFX Mcloughlin .12
The Man with the Broken Heart Anna Kander13
What the Accident Took Kerry E.B. Black14
Mutually Assured Defeat Joshua Scully15
Men in Green Uniforms Herb Kauderer16
Instead Claudia Gary 17
Talking to Myself Guy Ricketts18
Creature Entanglement Russell Hemmell19
Contributor Bios20-23
Speculative 66 Staff.24
Photo Credits25
 Keep Falling On My Head

Allen Ashley

Thereve been lots of government scare stories

about acid rain. How its going to poison our
rivers and streams, strip away our food crops,
melt the very bricks off our buildings.

Social media told it differently. So I went out

and let the drops hit my bare head, my upturned
mouth.

Rainbows like Ive never seen. Literally raining

cats and dogs. Pink and purple ones. Man!

3
 Elder

Andrew Wheatley

The elder gathered the other boys and myself

to southernmost part of our sacred land.

He said to us only three words, Fear the

wood.

I remember looking into them as a little one,

assuming Elder had lost his mind entirely.

He turned his old, wise head slowly looking

back to me and said If thats how you feel
than venture out young one. Touch Death.
4
 Road Impulse

Freya Campbell

Driving past the mountain lake. I glance left.

It is so easy to turn the wheel and leave the

road; tires spin, no barrier stops our car
tumbling down, rolling past rocks and shrubs,
chassis dented as you scream and we splash
into the freezing lake, scrabbling at windows
for escape from violent movie death.

I blink.
Still on the road.
Resisted the urge this time.

5
 Ghost Drivers

Kim Mannix

On Sundays they gather,

faceless figures
grey fog forms
of women and men
their hands still of this world, solid
fleshy fingers wrapped tight
around the wheel,
tapping to the beat of 'I Get Around.'

Here, if they dare, the living go

from place to place
on their faith in the dead,
backseat belief
that there will be more to come
around the next sharp curve.

6
Meeting Oscar

Philip Berry

I have watched you. Riding that

wonderful bicycle along the embankment,
you glance up Tite Street, hoping to
spot my tall, cloaked figure. So here we
sit, where my imagination first fleshed
Salome. Yet, although my skin is Dorian
fresh, you recoil. Do you fear me? Alas
our natures are unlike. We will not be
friends. But don't stop seeking; those
questing looks bring me life.

7
 Abandoned Farm

Thomas Locicero

I thought the old man had abandoned the farm.

As it happened, I would bear that distinction.
He did not leave food before he left the land.
I tried to coax the dog to follow me,
but he growlingly refused to leave his
master. So I left, alone, relieved to
fetch someone else who had the stomach to lure
a bloody-faced smiling dog away from home.

8
 A Post-Disaster Story

Rhys Hughes

Scientists had no way of stopping the

asteroid. It was too big and too fast.

Then a humble postal worker had an idea. He

went into space in a rocket and fixed a
stamp to the enormous mass of rock. Now the
asteroid was the responsibility of the Post
Office.

They typically failed to deliver it

correctly. So it struck Mars instead. The
Earth was saved.

9
 Pickpocket

Fred Rock

He was good, I told Chelsea.

He was all right.
Really smooth; I never felt a thing. It was
just I snapped my fingers, gone.
He wasnt bad.
Hes got my wallet, at least let me think hes
good.

Chelseas eyes sparkled. She tossed my wallet

to me, and opened another. She scanned it, took
the cash, and threw it.He was all right, she
said.

10
 Snowblind Photokeratitis

Gerard Sarnat

Sweater weather murky tundra Chicago, every

jerk x-rays layers of glittery gay clothing
to gaze at made wrong non-normative
thwarted bodies whose yellowish mandible and
maxilla treat all-you-eat buffets like
supermarkets before blizzards.

Ivories speak truth about tick-tocking gray

headspaces throwing shade: allies of
convenience, some place redline liens, others
garnish paychecks while wanton dud/esses
pitch in to nail mois pale flesh to
invisible green doorposts.

11
 Nature

JFX Mcloughlin

She chose the loveliest of fir trees for

their nest wanting to raise her young in
beauty and splendor that was this
evergreen forest. Sadly, she was unaware
this very tree was to be chopped down for
an upcoming holiday. The ways of man were
lost on this simple creature who did not
see nature as a decoration but as a home
and as a gift.

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 The Man with the Broken Heart

Anna Kander

Poor Harolda terrible writer who loved to

write.

Days, he labored as a mad scientist.

(Assembly-line production ruins any job.)

Nights, Harold crammed sentences full of

clauses, layering meanings like delicious,
impossible wedding cakes. Haroldcelebrator and
joiner of words!

Alas! editors said. You cannot string a

thousand weddings together to make one
marriage.

Hmmph, thought Harold. Well see.

Now Harold has built a replicator. 13
 What the Accident Took

Kerry E.B. Black

Headaches, echoes of what brought

me to this twilight half-world of
monitors, fluorescent lighting, and
needles. Taped wires trap my arm. I
push covers and gasp. My nightdress
slumps to the mattress unimpeded.
No thick thighs or ankles prone to
twist. I stare, horrified.
No legs.

14
Mutually Assured Defeat

Joshua Scully

"They're calling for you in the arena," the

servingwoman said as she pushed open the
chamber door. "The champion awaits."

"I'll be ready momentarily," the knight

responded.

"What are those?" the young girl asked

regarding strange pouches of black powder sewn
under the knight's armor.

"Gunpowder," he answered. "No matter how I

fair, he won't remain undefeated after today.
Of course, I'll be needing that candle."

15
 Men in Green Uniforms

Herb Kauderer

I thought the genetically engineered super-

soldiers ruling the city had made my wife over-
protective of Jimmy. She rarely let him out of
sight and was hesitant to let him go
fishing.

But fishing we went, and I secretly packed a

football for some real male bonding. My
understanding changed completely when Jimmy
tripped playing catch and got up with a
nosebleed. A nosebleed spouting green blood.

16
 Instead

Claudia Gary

Instead of saying, after that spectacular first night,

"I love you, let's get hitched and start a family,"
maybe he should have skipped the candlelight
and said, "When you object at all, it's lamely,
so youre just right for me. I need someone
I can belittle with impunity."
But he did not. Their codependent feast had just begun,
a buffet of self-doubts served up with glee.

17
 Talking to Myself

Guy Ricketts

She entered my life one day, an exciting

change to my routine.

Years later, she chose to end us. It stings.

Able to travel back to warn myself about this

pain in a message, I deliver it and return.

I recall that now. She was calling me on my

phone. I flipped myself off and took her
call.

Sigh.

I smile.

It was worth a try.

18
Creature Entanglement

Russell Hemmell

"Leaving, coming, disappearing. The act of

traveling itself it's meaningless," Eileen
murmured, brushing away her tears and looking
at the station's benches.

"Relax." A firefly landed on the girl's

shoulder. "I'm here, you see.

"You ain't human -you ain't us. How can you

understand our broken world?

"With empathy."

The insect flapped her wings against Eileen's

cheek and buzzed away against a rainbow of
pristine light. 19
 Con*trib*u*tors
Allen Ashley

Allen Ashley featured in Speculative 66 issue 11 with

Strange Lights. He works as a creative writing tutor with
five groups running across north London, UK. He is a
committee member for the British Fantasy Society. His most
recent book is an updated, revised version of his novel
The Planet Suite (Eibonvale Press, UK, 2016). He is the
sole judge for the British Fantasy Society Short Story
Competition.

Philip Berry

Phil Berry's speculative fiction and poetry has appeared in

Metaphorosis, Headstuff, Chrome Baby, Bunbury Magazine,
Nebula Rift and Daily Science Fiction among others.
Twitter: @philaberry
Web: www.philberrycreative.wordpress.com

Kerry E.B. Black

Many years ago, Kerry E.B. Black studied journalism at Penn

State University, but creative writing remains her passion.
Please follow the author
at https://kerrylizblack.wordpress.com/ or https://twitter.
com/BlackKerryblick

Freya Campbell

Freya Campbell / @spdrcstl collects jobs like stamps, and

has been a cook, a garbage sorter, a recording engineer and
a civil servant. She writes fiction and records music and
makes short games, and can be found online
at https://communistsister.itch.io, or in meatspace by the
sea in Sussex, UK.

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 Claudia Gary

Claudia Gary writes, edits, sings, composes (tonally), and gives

poetry workshops in the Washington DC area and elsewhere. She is
author of Humor Me (David Robert Books 2006) and several chapbooks
including Bikini Buyer's Remorse. Besides anthologies such as The
Great American Wise Ass Poetry Anthology (Lamar University,
2015), Forgetting Home (Barefoot Muse Press 2013),
and Villanelles (Everyman Press 2012), her poems are published in
journals internationally. Her articles on health appear in The VVA
Veteran and elsewhere.
Web: http://www.pw.org/content/claudia_gary. Twitter: @claudiagary

Russell Hemmell

Russell Hemmell is a statistician and social scientist from the

U.K, passionate about astrophysics and speculative fiction. Recent
work in Not One of Us, Perihelion SF, SQ Mag, and others.'
Website: earthianhivemind.net Twitter: @SPBianchini

Rhys Hughes

Rhys Hughes has lived in many different countries. He now works as

a tutor of mathematics. His first book was published in 1995 and
since that time he has published more than forty books and eight
hundred short stories in ten different languages.
https://rhysaurus.blogspot.co.uk/

Anna Kander

Anna Kander writes with her sidekick, a fearless blue fish who
doesnt realize hes only one inch tall. Her work is published or
forthcoming in several journals, including Star*Line, Leveler, and
Train. Find her at http://annakander.com or @AnnaKander on Twitter.

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 Herb Kauderer

Herb Kauderer is an associate professor of English at Hilbert

College, and the author of many short stories and poems including
the recent mini-chapbook 'Cascade of Stardust'. His writing has
been nominated for the Pushcart, Elgin, Analog AnLab Reader's,
Rhysling, and Dwarf Star Awards, and has won the Asimov's
Readers' Award, the Ewaipanoma Sonnet contest, and a WorldCon
Poetry Slam among others. More can be found at his website
HerbKauderer.com.

Thomas Locicero

Thomas Lociceros poems have most recently appeared or are

forthcoming in Birmingham Arts Journal, Clockwise Cat,
Snapdragon, felan, The Ghazal Page, Red Savina Review, Better
Than Starbucks, Poetry Quarterly, Bindweed Magazine, The Skinny
Poetry Journal, Abyss & Apex Magazine, The Avocet, and vox
poetica. He lives in Broken Arrow, OK.

Kim Mannix

Kim Mannix is a Pushcart Prize nominated poet and fiction writer

from Sherwood Park, Alberta. Her background in journalism and
lifelong love of dark fiction means she spends much of her time
pondering the nature of horror, both real and imagined. You can
find her online at her blog www.makesmesodigress.com or on
Twitter @KimMannix.

JFX Mcloughlin

jfx is on an island in the Atlantic where he writes, some of it

good, some even good enough to appear in various places around
the net.

Guy Ricketts

Guy Ricketts is a writer, artist and photographer. His stories have

been published in Speculative 66, 101 Words, and Twisted Sister Lit
Mag. His art was featured on the cover of Schlock! Webzine.
He can be followed on Twitter @GuyRicketts

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 Fred Rock

Fred Rock lives in a small village in northwestern Wisconsin with his

wife and kids as well as his dog Cletus and a cat who barfs all the
time.

By day, Fred trudges about the countryside reading electric meters.

(Yes, its still a real thing.)

By night, Fred busts out rad-ass fictional short stories as well as

occasional poems and meandering observations like a real rocking
rocker who knows how to rock!

Can you even stand it?

Its out of control.

Gerard Sarnat

Pushcart-nominated Gerard Sarnat MDs authored HOMELESS CHRONICLES

(2010), Disputes, 17s, Melting The Ice King (2016) and been published
in Gargoyle, Lowestoft, Tishman Review, New Verse News etc. Amber Of
Memory was the single poem chosen for my 50th college reunion Dylan
symposium; the Harvard Advocate accepted a second plus Oberlin, Brown
and other universities accepted concurrent pieces. Mount
Analogue selected KADDISH FOR THE COUNTRY for pamphlet distribution
on Inauguration Day for the DC and nationwide Womens Marches. For
HuffPo/other reviews, visit GerardSarnat.com. Harvard/Stanford
educated, Gerrys worked in jails, built/staffed clinics for the
marginalized, been a healthcare CEO and Stanford professor.

Joshua Scully

Joshua Scully is an American History teacher from Uniontown,

Pennsylvania. His fiction can be found
at www.jjscully.wordpress.com or @jojascully.

Andrew Wheatley

Andrew Wheatley (@unclepapples) has been writing fiction and poetry

for most of their life. They are located just south of Atlanta,
Georgia. Their only aspiration is to write so well that everyone hates
them.

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SPEC*U*LA*TIVE 66 Staff

Cat-in-Chief Ila

Editor-in-Chief L.L. Madrid

Photo Editor - Jason Palmieri

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 *Photo Credits*

Cover Photo by L.L. Madrid

(Tarantula rescued by Lora Rivera)
Photo on 3 Vimeo CC
Photo on 4 Pixabay
Photo on 5 Flickr - Dawn Endico
Photo on 6 Wikimedia Commons
Photo on 7 Flickr - volker-kannacher
Photo on 8 Flickr
Photo on 9 NASA Jet Propulsion Laboratory
Photo on 10 Pixabay
Photo on 11 Pixabay
Photo on 12 Pixabay
Photo on 13 Pixabay
Photo on 14 Istock Photo
Photo on 15 CC
Photo on 16 Flickr
Photo on 17 Pexel
Photo on 18 Clipart CC
Photo on 19 Pixabay

*** Unattributed photos in this issue

are from are CCO Public Domain, Free
for commercial use
with no attribution required.
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IX.VI.MMXVII

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