“Ah! Magnificent.” The man grabbed his date by the arm. “See, the genius of this piece lies in how it deliberately engages in the disjunctive perturbation of the liminal qualities of the object-semantic space, enhancing the motif of dangerous alertness. It subverts the mechanical purity that at first seems to, yet ultimately fails, to materialize.”
“Uhm, dude, I think that’s just a fire alarm.”
— Bastian Espada
“Close your eyes, breathe in. Focus only on the sound of my voice,” the woman whispered.
The man—who was lying his living room floor—felt the tension in his body evaporate.
“Let the outside world melt away.”
The man drifted into the ether, slowly becoming one with the world…
“Fuck!” he yelled, an hour later, when he opened his eyes.
All his shit was gone.
— Bastian Espada
“Sometimes I wish I’d never been born!”
“Dude, you weren’t”
“Oh, that’s right,” the man’s imaginary friend said, then disappeared.
— Bastian Espada
The wind sweeps pulverized dolomite off the ground, and carries the gold-ochre dust beyond the hills. It blocks a marginal amount of sunlight—not enough to matter to the oldest tree in the world.
The bristlecone pine absorbs the sunset for the millionth time.
“What is the true nature of the universe?”
It weeps, for it does not know.
— Bastian Espada
The weird kid grabbed the tip of the branch as if it were a hand, and sat next to the snowman he had made. “Some months will pass, and you’ll be gone.” The child turned his head to face his creation. “You’re so ephemeral.”
“Well, so are you,” replied the snowman.
“I know.”
They stayed there side by side, staring at the starry night.
— Bastian Espada
“It happened a long time ago — when grandpa was still alive and grandma still remembered things.”
— Bastian Espada
Time bleeds a purple ichor — it washes over a gray melaminated desk.
A silver laptop blinks.
A new spreadsheet opens.
— Bastian Espada
“Oh baby, I like it stinky,” the woman said to her lover — a six-foot-tall sentient brick of Limburger cheese.
— Bastian Espada
“Given the severity of your crimes, I, Minos, judge of the underworld, sentence you to…”
The man’s butthole clenched.
“Love yourself!”
The man screamed, and screamed and screamed.
— Bastian Espada