Tag Archives: Damien Krsteski

Boxes, Basements

When I opened my eyes my feet were the feet of a baby: I wore red baby shoes with thin blue stripes and white soles. I looked at my hand. Cracked skin, veins branching out on the back of it, … Continue reading

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Solving Holly

Descartes reads me the names of the dead. I place my porcelain mug on a stack of old documents, a brownish ring of dried coffee over the scribbles indicates exactly where. “Samantha Foley: blunt force trauma to the head.” The … Continue reading

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The Tulpa

For the hundredth time I start with the toes. Her cute little toes with nails polished red. The ankle and the pale scar bisecting it. Her pretty feet, sprouting legs spindly like cigarettes. A torso pops into existence, stretching up … Continue reading

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Convent

Convent disrobed Connor on arrival. It was customary, and by now he’d gotten used to materializing naked in the middle of the giant desert. Wind blasted sand all over his body and only after the third prayer did the desert … Continue reading

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Maturity

A small part of the ship’s front dissolved into the vacuum of space and scattered itself across the immediate surroundings. Denna watched a visual representation of the nanomachines from the bridge as they propelled themselves outwards to analyze the area. … Continue reading

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Fuzzy the Way It Is

“Reseed.” The voice came booming from all directions of the non-matter landscape grown to represent the void within. It was neither foreign nor familiar, colorless but not synthetic. He spoke again. “Randomize. Branch out.” The seed was planted; it took … Continue reading

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