BLAST OFF AND SO LONG, SUCKERS!!!
Eulogy : By The Dark Lord, Richard Godwin – “Jason Michel is a visionary, make no mistake, just riffle through the pages of PMM and see. He is also a heretic and for good reasons. This is the age of...
View ArticleTHE FINAL COUNTDOWN 1… CHINA WHITE IN MASHPEE by Richard Godwin
1. WORK. Elixirs come in many forms, I have found, but there are none as good as a well-executed job. Work: I am tired of all the Murphy Artists, con men lining up on the puke stained sidewalks, all...
View ArticleTHE FINAL COUNTDOWN 2… Because The Night by Paul D. Brazill
Mark Finney’s footsteps echoed as he walked across the rusty, metal railway bridge. A steely fog was spreading itself across the town and he could no longer see the trains creeping slowly below him. He...
View ArticleTHE FINAL COUNTDOWN 3… HUNTERS By Jeff Dosser
The only truly positive thing you can say about zombies is they’re terrible at hiding, particularly in the woods, constantly thrashing through the underbrush, stomping through leaves. Then, of course,...
View ArticleTHE FINAL COUNTDOWN… 4… I’ve Told Ev’ry Little Star by Graham Wynd
‘Every vibration that ever moved through this place is still resonating,’ Karl told me. I was in awe of him then. We stood in Monty’s which had been the Marquee. Sometimes we even had a pint if we had...
View ArticleTHE FINAL COUNTDOWN… 5… The Master by Dr. Mel Waldman
In an unfathomable moment of murderous unreality, I shoot the Master. He laughs uproariously. I shoot him again and again and after an interminable fusillade, he falls to the ground. But when I gaze at...
View ArticleAnd Now, The End Is Near….
Ladies & Germs, PMM will be on an extended hiatus until… who knows when, who knows where, but I know we’ll meet again, some sunny day. I shall be putting some select pieces up over the next few...
View ArticleNecro-Dandies By Alex S. Johnson
Some say a gentleman’s crimes, no matter how well-intended, are permanent. That they affix themselves to his brow, or shine from the skin of his neglected soup, or find some other way to creep about...
View ArticleBlood and Botany by Simon Maltman
“Pass us the rake Brian, would ya?” “Two seconds mate… there you go.” “Cheers,” said Tim, starting into a final tidy up of the lawn, “if you wanna load up the van that’ll do us.” “No probs,” Brian...
View ArticleGames the Wealthy Play By Walt Giersbach
Lorraine was a game that Nathan played with great relish. Not a childish game, but a sport called life. First, there were odds. Odds that her husband, Dexter, wouldn’t discover their affair. The...
View ArticlePirate Witch Wench By Alex S. Johnson
Suggested by a song by Brecht and Weill I sweep, I scrub and I work the grit from the nooks and crannies. I see the evidence of your dirty couplings and weird indiscretions. And I take. Not anything...
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The Bridge by Simon Maltman
Part 1 I opened the door into my small and let’s say minimal office at just after half nine that morning. As usual, I had made the short journey on the metro from Chodov to Pancrák, grabbing a take out...
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The Gouger by Eric Westerlind
Martin Skyrelli draped a red cloth over the standing mirror in his house because he could not stand to stare at himself any longer, and he had been doing so for days. Before that, less. You’ll...
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Bingo Night, Part II by Vincent Zandri
Stan gets out, taps on the door, three distinct times. We wait. Finally the door opens. “Took you so long, babes?” Derrick, standing in the dark open door, thumbs jammed inside his leather utility...
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Bingo Night, Part I by Vincent Zandri
“All I’m saying, Tony, is this. Those old people living out their days at the old folks home across the road got cash coming out the wazoo. They play bingo, they don’t play for small change. They got...
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ELC: The Universal Flood by Eric Westerlind
“I am Ernesto Luis Cardeñia, Argentine poet, an early dreamer. I sit at the edge and describe. The planes beyond, believe me—the disjunct in time here is huge at the edge of man’s space, where the...
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GLASS CEILING by Frank Quinn
Money has a smell all its own. A flat scent of eager hands and disappointed dreams. Miriam loved the smell of cash. Not the flat crisp hundreds the ATMs spat out but the odor of well-worn bills. The...
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My Blue Mistake by Brian Morse
Will this be the one that gets me killed? I’ve asked myself this question no less than one hundred times before. I’ve also never given much thought to death, but now that I’m dead, I have all the time...
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Sanctuary! by J.M. Taylor
Tara and Chris had rented the Amvets Hall for the wedding. The room’s sliding partition was closed for the event. On the other side of the accordion wall, a group of senior women were holding their...
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ROTHKO’S DAUGHTER by Richard Godwin.
I followed her, having nowhere else to go. She was shining like a wax doll under the bus shelter lights, looking like she’d melt. I sat down next to her and lit a Marlboro, feeling the drops of...
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