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Escape from Psycho Pasture – Part 2 [Jim #18, Short Fiction] #18

For two years Jim occupied a dungeon cell at Psycho Pasture. His leg was chained to a radiator, he used a stamping machine to make customized license plates for the non-rapist free peoples of paradise, and his cell mate was

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Escape from Psycho Pasture – Part 1 [Jim #17, Short Fiction]

The Psycho Rapist Pasture wasn’t really a pasture. It was more like a circular prison that never came around all the way, and in the middle there was an off-limits garden. Jim figured calling it a pasture was some kind

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A Mile High in Paradise [Jim #16, Short Fiction]

Abdulaziz al-Omari stood on the corner of a busy intersection in Downtown Paradise. He rang a bell and wore a cardboard sign that said, 911 was an inside job. He looked weathered. Jim watched him from the veranda of the

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Metadirt – Part 2 [Jim #15, Short Fiction]

The Downtown Apocalypse Exchange was on the corner of Smoke Street and Mirror Avenue. Steel and glass rose out of the thoroughfare and knifed into the Paradise sky. Jim followed Rockefeller in through the revolving doors. A few hallways and

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Metadirt – Part 1 [Jim #14, Short Fiction]

There was a knock on the door. Jim opened it, expecting cake or tits or something else that was nice. Instead he got a face full of Billy Mays. “Hey Jim! Remember me? We met at Lucy’s party. Well we

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Cool Cogito, Bro [Jim #13, Short Fiction]

Small Town, Paradise. Green yards and clean air and split-level houses. A post office, a police station, a grocery store, five bars and a set of stoplights. Autumn in the afternoon and summer in the evening, and every evening a

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An American Dreamer in Paradise [Jim #12, Short Fiction]

“I don’t dream anymore.” “Nobody dreams anymore.” “Is it still possible to dream? In this place?” “Well, anything is possible. But no, not really.” “I miss it.” “You miss it?” “Dreams. Dreaming.” “They’re just dreams.” “You don’t miss dreams?” “No.”

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