weirdmonger
THE LAST BALCONY (www.nemonymous.com)
Nemonymous Part Four is due to be issued during May and there are 17 wicked stories by 17 eclectic writers. The order of story titles is:
Apologising To The Concrete - Creek Man - The Death Knell - Determining The Extent - Embrace - The Frog's Pool - Generous Furniture - Leaves Like Hearts - Like A Slow Motion War - My Burglar - Maledict Michela - Nocturne For Doghands - The Painter - Rorschach-interpreter - Sexy Beast - Vole Mountain - The Withering
As you can see, the only story stealthily creeping out of alphabetical order is 'My Burglar' - and to give a taster for Nemo~4, here are this story's 1st 2 paras (with permission of its author):
I am a burglar. I have broken into and entered the hidden heart of your existence. Nobody else has seen your secret self; nobody but I, your burglar.
I wander through your house when you are not at home, touching your possessions. Fondling your life. My fingers play over your CD collection, and I pass silent judgement on your taste in music; my knuckles gently rap on the spines of your books, and I smile at the titles I find there amid the hardback textbooks and paperback bestsellers. My feet shuffle softly over the carpet in your tastefully decorated bedroom, leaving invisible atoms amid the tufted pile.
Apologising To The Concrete - Creek Man - The Death Knell - Determining The Extent - Embrace - The Frog's Pool - Generous Furniture - Leaves Like Hearts - Like A Slow Motion War - My Burglar - Maledict Michela - Nocturne For Doghands - The Painter - Rorschach-interpreter - Sexy Beast - Vole Mountain - The Withering
As you can see, the only story stealthily creeping out of alphabetical order is 'My Burglar' - and to give a taster for Nemo~4, here are this story's 1st 2 paras (with permission of its author):
I am a burglar. I have broken into and entered the hidden heart of your existence. Nobody else has seen your secret self; nobody but I, your burglar.
I wander through your house when you are not at home, touching your possessions. Fondling your life. My fingers play over your CD collection, and I pass silent judgement on your taste in music; my knuckles gently rap on the spines of your books, and I smile at the titles I find there amid the hardback textbooks and paperback bestsellers. My feet shuffle softly over the carpet in your tastefully decorated bedroom, leaving invisible atoms amid the tufted pile.
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