Leo can’t wait for the 22nd century to reach back and give him the life he needs, so he’s bringing the future to him. He pays a group of 3rd year art students and engineers to forge, fashion and realize his visions. Gamma ray glasses. Dog translation. Ghost diviners. Tech to boost the senses. Gadgets…

If there was greater meaning in an action than the act itself, he didn’t pursue it. He’d rather work away in a philosophical vacuum than get deep about scrubbing a cookie sheet or balancing the cheque book; the rabbit could blaze a trail of intellect before leaping into its hole but he wouldn’t be follow…

Waiting for activation. Backstage Rae breathes through her nose, adjusts her bass. C#, B, E, A. Nothing Ray Vaughan would break a sweat over but that’s not her job. The band, her back-up, a vomit word for something so essential, adds what she can’t to what she certainly can, which is roar. She does fret…

He’s been dreaming too much, confronting life in the unconscious where nothing’s held back. He doesn’t like it. His wife’s expecting. Their third and the source of his dreams. In the company of a stranger in shadow, he might spill his true guts. He doesn’t want the child. With the infant in his arms, squirming,…

He had a philosophy that put him behind his own private eight-ball. Maybe under it. A way of living too in the moment, at the cost of finances and relationships and self-restraint. And at 42, he was deep along the spectrum into man-child. “It’s called indulging the spirit of youth,” he’d say. Which was partly…

Behind the bar, she gives as much personality as her clients require. It’s her job, but more than that, seduction pays. She’ll reflect their world like a cocktail shaker for an extra 20. The shit adds up. Just don’t call her hollow. She’s got a soft spot for the quiet cool of regulars who keep…

She fights the urge to bottom feed, what some call “settle.” It comes from her world immediate. Most of her girl friends are hitched, half to Winnebagos, the rest to trailers without tail-lights. She’d be lying if she said the odds didn’t scare her. Compatibility is king and when loved ones lose she takes note….

He used to sell. Was an appliance man. Counter-depth fridges. Top-load washers. Express-rinse this and square-footage-of-simultaneous-browning that. Lotta sheet metal. Lotta running his fingers across stainless steel. He was good. More than once brought his department within inches of yearly sales records. Good enough to raise a small family. “Look here!” he snapped when the…