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=BreakInTheSun
David Masad 
Singularity Spy When she got back to her desk at her home-office with her freshly-brewed cup of tea, Sarah already had a new IM waiting for her, from an agent she had codenamed ANMERCATOR. He (or she, she didn't know) was asking for the standard rate in return for "urgnt nfo of interest to ur firm".Singularity Spy
That was the way it was; everyone always had “urgent nfo” to sell in Mumbai. She approved the transaction, and her computer automatically sent the payment from one of her front accounts to ANMERCATOR's offshore. A moment later, a document appeared on h
in Science Fiction on 10/23/07
The Rapture - stripin Strips on 8/25/07
Early Warning "Please, sit down, Dr. Weller," "Thank you, sir." "Have you ever been to the White House before?" "No sir, Mr. President." "It's just another big building, you'll get used to it. Do you want anything to drink? Coffee, juice?" "No thank you, sir." "Someone get Dr. Weller a glassEarly Warning
in Science Fiction on 8/16/07
Punch I can hear indistinct thumping up ahead -- almost, but not quite, the sound of wood against flesh. The eastern sky is already burning with the dawn light, but down here, in the shadow of the prison, it might as well still be night. The bright patches on my clothes are the same colors as the sky, and they only make me stand out more.Punch
I look up, to the top of the tallest tower of the prison, where the barred window of the execution chamber had been smashed straight through, and I wish I could shudder as I realize again what lies ahead. &
in Horror on 8/10/07
Recruitment Posterin Sci-Fi on 3/9/07
Untitled Drawingin Miscellaneous on 2/20/07
The Girl from Indiana I'm still not sure where the actual town was; it was night, and all I saw was the roach motel where I got a room for the night, and the bar across the highway from it with the flashy-faded sign out front that simply said 'Bar'.The Girl from Indiana
The bar itself felt depressingly clichéd, like a handful of extras fucking around on a movie set at the end of shooting. The only song I recognized on the jukebox was Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy, and nobody seemed to get too excited about it. Mostly, I sat at the bar, nursed a beer and watched the local hicks shoot po
in General Romantic Fiction on 1/11/07
Letter Sent From A DC MotelDear Lauren,Letter Sent From A DC Motel
By the time you read this, I'll either be dead or so deep underground I might as well be dead. But I want you to know what's happened - and to know that I haven't forgotten you.
While I was in Baghdad, I had a job interview. It wasn't officially called that, but that's obviously what was going on. The guy interviewing me was Captain Gage, and he was even colder and creepier than most SOCOM bureaucrats – he didn't make any small talk, just asked me rapid-fire questions in monotone as we had lunch in a mess hall together.
What the hell, I guess it doesn't matter if I tell you now - in Iraq I w
in Horror on 12/3/06
If You Talk Too Much...in Strips on 12/1/06
The Asshole BossWhen the first words you hear out of a new employer's mouth are "What took you so long?" you know things aren't gonna go smoothly.The Asshole Boss
I wanted to say "You wanted me to lead the cops or the opposition to your doorstep, you should have said so," but instead I just said "I'm here now." "Damn right you are," he said, a guy with bulk underneath his jacket that I could tell wasn't muscle and whose pudgy face looked naked without a cigar. "Come on, let's go." &nb
in General Fiction on 11/27/06
Intercepts“Don't do it, brother,” said Luc, popping the last chip into his mouth. “Come on,” Jean protested. As if in cue, the warning 'Insecure Area', which was traveling back and forth along the length of the cafeteria table, slid between them. “Come on,” Jean repeated, softer. “What harm could it do?” Luc cocked his head. “You want a list?” “Look, she hasn't even done anything,” said Jean. “The only reason she's on the array is because of automatic traffic analysis, and she's only a Class IIntercepts
in Short Story on 9/13/06
Geometryin Conceptual on 9/7/06
Coffee-Shop HookupHe was sitting at the far end of the wall, past the Scrabble players, when he caught Melissa's eye. She had her legs up in one of the big old armchairs by the window, the ones with all the upholstery coming off, cuddling her notebook in her lap and trying to write a story, when she noticed him looking in her direction. What sort of character would he be, she wondered? He was wearing a button-down shirt – gray, she wanted to call it, but it wasn't regular clothing gray. It was more like an old lead pipe, she decided – it looked as though it used to be shiny, but had been dulled with time anCoffee-Shop Hookup
in Cheap or Tawdry on 8/24/06
The ElopementThe bells of the Thousand-Gods' Cathedral were already tolling seven by the time I sat down in the Bull and Goose's common-room to eat dinner. The inn was both a step up and down - it was better than the hideouts, basements and safe-houses I had slept in more often than not during the past six months, but my very being in it was a sign that my most lucrative period of employment in years was over. Star, the barmaid, came around with her big wooden platter, deftly balancing it on one hand as she knelt to put the pewter bowl of soup of my table with the other. I smiled at her; I had been staying at the Bull and Goose eveThe Elopement
in Fantasy on 8/17/06
Riyadh Blues"So what did you say you do?" the blond kid sitting on the barstool next to me asked. I took another sip of my beer. "I'm in security. You know, for the compound," I said, waving my hand in a lazy gesture to take in the underground bar and the whole expat enclave it sat in. "Wow, no way? That's awesome!" the kid said. "So you're protecting us from terrorists and stuff, huh?" His face was flushing red, even though he hadn't been drinking anything but water so far. Way to be subtle, kid. "Protecting?" I snorted. "Security here's a joke. I should know, right? Holes a mile wiRiyadh Blues
in General Fiction on 6/26/06
Silent Ballad for a Gunfighterin Movies on 5/27/06
Saxophone GirlEvery night after work, I went to the same little bar. I'm not sure what it was called - the name chipped off the door a long time before I ever got there, and the menus were just a photocopied list. The tiny beer selection was cheap, and so were the shots, but truth be told that's not the reason I kept coming back, night after night. I kept coming back because of her.Saxophone Girl
Every night at eleven o'clock exactly, she'd come out. She always wore a red dress - the same red dress, I thought for the longest time - and she'd walk across the little wooden stage with a sway in her full hips before sitting down on the wooden
in Mystery on 4/8/06
Broken ThingsBroken things, broken things; God has uses for broken things -HymnBroken Things
“Don’t move, you motherfucker. Don’t you fucking move.”
Micah stood at his kitchen counter. He heard the voice at his ear, and felt the press of cold metal at the nape of his neck. He guessed that it was a gun barrel, and it was shaking.
“Do you want money?” Micah asked. He moved his arm slowly. “I can get my wallet out, if you want.”
“Don’t fucking move!” the voice barked. The cold metal shook m
in Sociopolitical on 2/7/06
The LA Job - III"What time is it?" I asked, later. "Eleven thirty," Mickey said. He was already dressed in work clothes. "The handoff's in two hours." By the time I got off the uncomfortable cot on the floor and changed into the work clothes from my travel bag - black jeans and sweater, Palladium shoes - Mickey was already making a round of coffees. Andy was off to one side, looking nervous and talking quietly with Pat, who already had his cellphone headset sitting around his neck. Susan wasn't out yet. I sat down at the table with my shoe box, and began to press rounds down into the clip, one at a time.The LA Job - III
in General Fiction on 12/20/05
The LA Job - IIAt a quarter past midnight, the taxi Marvin had sent stopped underneath my apartment and tapped out the signal on its horn. I went downstairs and took my travel bag into the back seat with me. "Mistah said to give you dees," the driver said, passing backwards a sealed manila envelope. Inside it was a California driver's license under the name of James Gorman, along with the return half of a two-way ticket from LAX, and two hundred in cash to cover expenses.The LA Job - II
I don't like airports. They're too crowded, don't have enough exits, always stink, and you've got less civil rights there than just a
in General Fiction on 12/17/05
The LA Job - IThe phone rang at 3 AM. "Jerry?" a slurry female voice on the other end of the line said. "Jerry, I'm s-so sorry I said what I said, I don't care that you were fucking that fucking whore -" "Hey," I inturrupted. "I want you back, Jerry, please baby." "Hey!" I said again. "This is a wrong number. This isn't Jerry." "Oh shit, I'm sorry, I'm, I'm so fucking stupid, I'm sorry," the drunken girl said, and hung up.The LA Job - I
I don't know where Marvin gets these girls, and guys too sometimes. Maybe he has a who
in General Fiction on 12/15/05
Outside, Looking Inin Cityscapes & Skylines on 10/27/05
in General Fiction on 10/10/05
Summer of the FishermanI know that now it’s only a footnote in history, but back then, when it felt as if all the stories and comic books were coming to life – well, it felt as if nothing would ever be the same.Summer of the Fisherman
I had a summer internship at a local TV station, and on the morning of June 26th I was stuck in a cramped office with no air conditioning, doing research for a very, very boring story about a tuna shortage. The radio was just set to NPR for the music, so I wasn’t really interested in the news. But something about the newscaster’s voice caught my ear, as if she wasn’t really sure how she was supposed to
in General Fiction on 10/2/05
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