A*
by Patrick W. Gallagher

I grew my hair long and bunched it up in as many pigtails as I could on all sides. By the time I was done, nine stubby pigtails of varying length shot and drooped out of my itchy scalp. But I ignored the urge to scratch my scalp and stood in the basement, my arms at my sides, with a long, thick comforter draped over my shoulders like a cape. I lectured on the secret origins of time and space. 

Talking with Funny Voices
by Patrick W. Gallagher

For familiar reasons that require no elaboration, Rick and Betty had to spend all of their time indoors and were not able to see friends and family. So, to break up the monotony and loneliness, they created new personalities by speaking in exaggerated accents and pantomiming fantastical gestures.

The Mirror on the Threshold of Obsolescence by Patrick W. Gallagher Karen’s husband threw himself down in an empty chair, two seats away from her, far enough away to betray a lack of intimacy between them but not far enough away to make a bold statement. They were the only two people sitting at a table, in the middle of a ballroom, with 12 chairs around it, but that was the seat that he had chosen—as though he had wanted […]