Improbable Things Which Didn’t Happen.

Improbable Things Which Didn’t Happen

by james bezerra

The newly fingerless graphomaniac has had some trouble channeling his energies since the letter bomb. His deaf typist opens his mail now - for the thrill of it, and also - because there’s nothing else for her to do.

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Dostoyevsky and Ted Kaczynski met in a bar.

They drank vodka with cubes of machine-made ice.

“My work commands me to create it,” D said, “I have no control over it.”

“Me too,” K said.

They ordered another round, exchanged information.

“Mailing my work will require many stamps,” D said.

“Me too,” K said.

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The typist was standing near the open window when the package exploded, tuning the radio on the sill. One moment the curtains were billowing in on the breeze. The next, they were billowing out.  

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