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Cream of the Cool

They burn coldly out here, beyond the last light of civilization, far from the small dome that shudders in the sandstorms that come up every seven days. You mark time in the sweeping of grains against polycarbon, the slow erosion of the passing murmurs. Once, the clocks ran, but unsynced from the dying satellite high above, you only mark time in sevens. Seven Earth days to each sandstorm, seven months since the last of the team vanished off over the horizon to repair the transmit tower at Alpha…

“For readers weary of literary fiction that dutifully obeys the laws of nature, here’s a story that stirs the Brothers Grimm and Salvador Dali with its claws.... as gorgeous as it is devastating.”
The Washington Post

In the House Upon the Dirt Between the Lake and the Woods, by Matt Bell
Soho Press, 2013
ISBN-10: 1616953721
ISBN-13: 978-1616953720

I’ll admit it. When I look for a novel

You got to be kidding me right?

I woke up this fine frigid morning intent on following my usual routine. Shit, shower, shave sans the shave part. I made the usual drive to work, endured the usual traffic problems, arrived at the office, grabbed a cup of coffee and checked my email. After deleting a bunch of bullshit from upper management about the comings and goings of people who I’d never heard of and I’m sure who have never heard of me it was time get my daily dose of the news.


Something you internet denizens probably don't know about me (seeing as how I am merely a line of text) is that, in the real world, I wear hats.

They're simple hats. Ones with brims, like baseball caps, but not quite the same shape. I have four. One is a brown one I only wear as a last resort because it got washed once and now fits funny, two I got at Disneyland with my best friend (one that looks like Colonel Oneal's hat from Stargate and one that is from the Tower of Terror