Tag Archives: Steve Isaak
Stigmatic — Steve Isaak
He was staring at her again. His warm gaze made Angie shudder with simultaneous trepidation and ecstasy. The chemical and sexual raptures she’d experienced before these visions were mere whispers of this one: it was pure, indefinable, and supernal. He shamed her with His forgiving, firm smile. How could she continually doubt such mercy? If [...]
Lascaux — Steve Isaak
Science Institute writer Phillip Hart studied the dimly-lit walls of the Shaft of the Animal People. Hundreds of skinny cave-art figures copulated in sticky-blocky poses. Some wore animal masks. Some held crude phallic symbols. All of this, painted more than 16,000 years ago – threatened by black fungi, caused and fueled by global warming, other [...]
Vermilion Lounge: Expunging — Steve Isaak
Alec’s long brown hair fell past his face as he sat in the metal folding chair. A cigarette smoldered between his nicotine-stained fingers, smoky loops rising, dissipating in the cold light of the white-walled dressing room. At the other end of the tiny room, Elizabeth sat in front of a battered vanity, applying white greasepaint [...]
Night of the Ziphoyds — Steve Isaak
Someone, while puking loudly, made metallic scissoring sounds in the restroom, a few feet away from Cel’s graffiti-scrawled stall. “Some peace and quiet, please? I’m trying to shoot up here!” Cel yelled. The puking, scissoring and spitting sounds abated. Not completely, but enough to allow Cel, sitting on the toilet, to refocus her attentions on [...]
Vladagascar Nights: Vince and Madge — Steve Isaak
Vince Vilsack sat at the round bar table with his “main,” Madge. She met his frosty blue eyes and sipped her Bloody Mary – sans blood, because she wasn’t a vampire, like her lover – and said, “Let’s do it in the break room, like we did the first time.” Vince, who resembled actor Rutger [...]
Isaak’s Fables: the Writer, the Money Man & the Insect — Steve Isaak
Jeanette, an even-tempered writer, appreciated Bill’s ability to quake her quiver bean. She liked little else about him. Bill was a pussy hound and Wall Street “money manager” who cheerfully admitted he couldn’t get enough of either. It was his due, he said. A drunken, argumentative hook-up had brought them together. They’d been banging for [...]
Dirty Tricks — Steve Isaak