by Stanley Lieber

Slake on the bridge.

Cat in the corner. He’d nearly forgotten. White eyes. Static display.

Beyond the screen, the familiar Martian sunset.

Going home.

Well, what passed for home, in this life.

Basement liquidated, why wait? Mitigate his risk. The boy would be fine. Nothing more he could do. Right?


Traced the shape of things to come, running his finger along the cat’s haunch. The outline peeled, collapsed into his hand. Shoddy workmanship. This was beyond the pale. Not his doing, but still.

Discarded the fraying applique.

Took her down to the surface.