Ms. Greenberg called it her caesura: her daily break in her eight-hour workplace melody—more like a dirge, she sometimes joked. Fancy vocabulary words added syllabic class to any day, she felt, although a steaming cappuccino from the break room’s coffeemaker—a sleek gray machine that looked futuristic in her blocky beige office building—also helped improve her life, in a joltin’ kinda way.
Some coffeemakers (but not that one) now have Bluetooth built in, she thought during her last caesura. Her electric toothbrush had Bluetooth—a Bluetoothbrush, heh. She sipped her cappuccino and thanked Jebus for wordplay, heh heh.
Copyright © 2017 by David V. Matthews
Subliminal Virginity #2 (zine cover)
Fondue (story-slash-zine insert)
Sad Gluttonworm and Pals (drawing)
The Building Blocks of Hype (drawing)
Native-American Lovemaps of the Low-Lying Counties, Man! (and another drawing)
Over dinner at her favorite Greek restaurant, Denton’s girlfriend of six months dumped him because he’d “grown too fucking right-wing,” as she told him in that low, affectless manner he used to find seductive for whatever reason. (They’d met in 2016 on a pro-Trump dating site.) “Have fun with your alt-Reich buddies,” she said, getting up to leave.
“I will, bitch, ’cause I’m literally Hitler, ha ha,” he said, quoting an alt-right meme that spoofs whiny libtard bullshit by facetiously comparing someone or something to you-know-who. (Denton thought the shrimp Santorini he’d just eaten ranked a little higher than Stalin.)
Copyright © 2017 by David V. Matthews (revised March 15-16, 2017)