Xperience Fiction
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Art Along the Aether, Chapter Eleven – Xperience Fiction – by Liam Sweeny. Dark and cold and silent, old environment untouched by hands civilized, or beset by ravenous eyes. Where were they? Or would it have been pomp and cliché to say when were they, and the snow touched not the leaves crinkled up beneath […]
Art Along the Aether, Chapter 6 – Xperience Fiction – by Liam Sweeny. The council had a vote, not before belaboring the pros and cons of America’s favorite skinhead on the first floor. The campaign field was wide and empty, for as it turned out in the council’s proxy speeches and diatribes, Shitheels had a […]
Art Along the Aether – Chapter Five – Xperience Fiction – by Liam Sweeny. Duct work and duct tape, coat hangers and copper tubing, Black PVC bowels flexing around thick electrical cable, rainbow-paint reinforced rice paper kites caught in nylon nets as sharp-angled butterflies. Strings hanging dipped in glitter, clips of newsprint glued and drizzling […]
Art Along the Aether, Chapter Four – Xperience Fiction = by Liam Sweeny. The warehouse was huge, tens of thousands of square feet. It was long ago abandoned by the property owner and would’ve been torn down if not for its sheer size compared to the size of the city budget. But Sarah figured that […]
Rogers County Weatherman – Xperience Fiction – by Liam Sweeny. Jeb’s wrist was Rogers County’s best weather service. Every time Maggie Dillard and the church group wanted to plan a bake sale in the parking lot of the A&P, She’d call Jeb the day before and ask if they needed tarps and such. When Johnstown […]
Ed Was The Lucky One – Xperience Fiction – by Liam Sweeny. Ed was the lucky one. It was Ed’s turn to drive the getaway car that Saturday night, as Carl, in his drunken stupor so eloquently reminded him. “Your turn motherf**ker!” he slurred, “Ya’ wanna play, ya’ gotta pay!” Carl’s favorite saying. He […]
Jonas Turley – Xperience Fiction – by Liam Sweeny. Jonas Turley spent his last breath in a frayed easy chair, listening to a vacuum that reverberated with the sounds he grew up to. In the early morning hour, the north wing of the Phoenix had exhausted its revelry, hallway empty except for old Barney Ellis, […]