by JL Jacobs | Sep 30, 2019 | Short Fiction
Moonlight at Saint Helena Park There is a big moon tonight and I have no rest. They sleep below gathered coats and I sit and watch and wait. And I wish it were dark and black and blind and I could not see; and I’d imagine another place, another me. ‘Would you have the...
by JL Jacobs | Sep 27, 2019 | Short Fiction
CRISPR-Cas9 “We’re such a primitive species, really. Aren’t we?” he said, licking his underarm hair. It was long and silky and red. “I don’t know what you mean,” she replied, distracted. She was depressing each spot on the baby with her thumb. Last month, the...
by JL Jacobs | Sep 18, 2019 | Short Fiction
In-Flight Safety In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen and welcome aboard Flight #777, non-stop service from Cairo to Jerusalem. This is your Father speaking. I’d like to extend a special welcome to our Frequent Prayer members and Saint Class...
by JL Jacobs | Sep 16, 2019 | Short Fiction
Something Larger, Something Whole The wife prepared for their visit by deep-cleaning the rug: It was a wedding present symbolizing fortune and happiness. Wrapped and sealed in a black tarp, the rug made its arrival into the home of the young couple, where it was...
by JL Jacobs | Aug 23, 2019 | Short Fiction
Stardust “It’s time.” “Now?” “Yes. You better come now… today… as soon as you can.” It’s Clara. My sister’s voice is unusually soft, unstable. On the plane, the sun has already set and it’s a dark clear night. From my window seat I gaze down at the...
by JL Jacobs | Aug 14, 2019 | Short Fiction
Freshly Baked Bread “Happy birthday, Mom!” Carol’s sing-song voice came through Mom’s kitchen speaker phone. “Oh, Carol, I’m glad it’s you, honey. I was going to call you tonight because I wanted to tell you that Dad and I have a present for you.” “But, Mom, It’s...
