Inkslinger Award Winner
Issue No. 13 – September 2016
“Shot as the sun was rising in the middle of Winter. We were snowed in for a week. We made chili and built an igloo in the front yard. The suburbanites scowled at the insolent marijuana smoke wafting from our drunken fortress as they dredged through the salty sludge towards their shitty jobs.
I was strutting around my room, glass and head filled with Armenian Brandy, listening to fuzzy vinyl in an attempt to jostle from dormancy any lingering sentiments worth pursuing. With a thousand wars and protests going on outside of our computer windows it feels insignificant to report on the woes of a common suburbanite in America, but this is the only story that I truly own.”
Ziggy Reed manipulates light and likes to write. He has disclosed the spoils of his life’s work to five of his closest friends and they are all kind enough to tell him that he’s good enough to keep going. He wishes things were different but he is grateful for how they are.