The cult section of the literary world
by: Martin Rutley It was late, Saturday night, when they brought me in. Strapped to a stretcher, disinfectant smeared into the corners of my eyes, the smell of petroleum in their greasy sideburns. Dressed in the green and gray of the company uniform, each of the six had joyously taken […]
by Leza Cantoral They say they saw little green men on the moon. In the darkness, you can touch yourself but then the lights flash bright and the little green men put cold hard objects into your orifices. They drip milk into your eyes. They fill you with their sperm […]
