New fiction: Super, Not Nova
I present to you for your reading pleasure issue thirty-four of Jersey Devil Press, stuffed full of twelve new very short stories about existentialism, jet-packs, paradoxes, and more. It also features my own very short story, Super, Not Nova. The last story to be published under my old writing name, it chronicles the adventures of Greg and Jimmy, art school burn-outs pondering the mysteries of life, the universe, and the food service industry. Also, Jimmy is a star about to go nova. Just thought I would mention that.
Jimmy felt like a star some days, he said, always burning under his skin. Sometimes light shined from behind his teeth when he’d get to drinking, licking his lips with syrup in his eyes and laughing like he was about to fall out of his shoes. Jimmy always said things like that as long as I’d known him. That there was a nuclear bomb locked up inside him, ready to burn. Set the whole world on fire and melt people’s faces off like when you put Playmobil toys in the microwave, or like some spinning Fourth of July firework from hell. Everything but me, he always said, because at least I was still pretty cool. I never believed Jimmy, not really, but I never corrected him either. There was no point to it. Jimmy was just like that.
