CORVUS REVIEW FALL ISSUE (6F) 2 Cover Art: Allen Forrest Born in Canada and bred in the U.S., Allen Forrest has worked in many mediums: computer graphics, theater, digital music, film, video, drawing and painting. Allen studied acting in the Columbia Pictures Talent Program in Los Angeles and digital media in art and design at Bellevue College (receiving degrees in Web Multimedia Authoring and Digital Video Production.) He currently works in the Vancouver, Canada, as a graphic artist and painter. He is the winner of the Leslie Jacoby Honor for Art at San Jose State University's Reed Magazine and his Bel Red painting series is part of the Bellevue College Foundation's permanent art collection. Forrest's expressive drawing and painting style is a mix of avant- garde expressionism and post-Impressionist elements reminiscent of van Gogh, creating emotion on canvas. Editing Staff: R. Gailor L. Fitzgerald EIC: J. Mercer 3 Cover Art/Editors 2 Table of Contents 3 Fiction/Flash Mills 4-6 Bernier 7-11 Stout 12-17 McMurry 18-21 Patane 22-28 Bruce 29-35 Rank 36-39 Hengsterman 40-41 Lee 42-48 Stadelman 49-51 Griego 52-58 Rayner 59-67 Barton 68-70 Oppenheimer 71-79 Wyatt 80-81 Waldman 82-83 Ulrich 84-85 Priest 86-87 Andreopoulos 88-89 Taylor 90-92 Hengsterman 93-94 Davie 95-96 Poetry Scopa 97-98 Ryan 99 Karcher 100 Androla 101 Jackson 103 Fitzgerald 104 Jani 105 K. Perkins 106-107 Bio’s 108 4 A Stereotypically Twenty-First-Century Attempt at Inoffensive Interpersonal Interface Reggie Mills “Okay yeah, sure, I mean, yeah I did say that maybe under, like, certain circumstances I wouldn’t mind if perhaps—and please, babe, do keep in mind that I meant and mean only, like, very specific, one-in-a-million circumstances wouldn’t ever come up in regular ordinary day-to-day life—that perhaps I wouldn’t mind if your parents were maybe—or like, just coincidentally or serendipitously happened to be—dead.” “…” “Don’t look at me like that, babe, please. I’m not some monstrous, inhuman creature. Look, just consider, okay: I’m sure that in your position, given the proper circumstances, that you might also feel the same way regarding my parents. Like not mind if they were dead. I mean, if they were, y’know, still alive, of course. Sure, I’ll grant you that they are dead now and all and you obviously, naturally, couldn’t say whether or not you would because they—my parents, I mean— And then, like, you haven’t even met— But like, even for me for God’s sake there are, like, an infinitely many more circumstances under which, y’know, I maybe wouldn’t even mind my own parents being dead, like compared to the number of circumstances when I wouldn’t mind yours… But what I mean and all is just that, like, I can pretty much almost, y’know, assuredly guarantee that there are…that there are situations in which you wouldn’t maybe, perhaps slightly, mind my parents being dead also. And, like, I wouldn’t even in the slightest take that personally, babe, you know I wouldn’t.” “…” “So yeah, I’m just saying, like, I’m not sure if it’s maybe right for you to—” “…” “I mean c’mon, I don’t mean it in a bad way or anything.” “…” “Like, I mean look, okay, let me just show you what I mean before you go and berate me, babe. So for example, like one thing that I thought of before was that if maybe your parents were perhaps mass-murdering serial killers, and they, like, went around killing people, right? Willy-nilly and all, then I—like, that seems reasonable, right? Like, if your parents were serial killers that would put me—and you too, also; you and me both—like, it would, of course, put both of us into, like, prime targeting position, right? For murder and all.” “…” “Which, like, they aren’t actually, of course; that’s out of the question. But if maybe perhaps they were like mass murderers then I maybe wouldn’t mind them, like, randomly or accidentally just, y’know, dying or something.” “…” “Like, but you get what I’m saying, right?” “…” “Babe, you know I hate when you get like this; all quiet and stuff. Like, I can’t even tell what you’re feeling. I mean, what I mean is, like, yeah, I know you’re obviously upset with me and all, obviously, but like besides that, I don’t even know what’s going on in there.” “…” 5 “And, like, I already did tell you that I’m sorry about what I said, which was, okay, yeah, during dinner at your parents’ house, no less, and in front of your parents and your sister and all—and, like, our nieces, too—that I said then that sometimes I feel as if I wouldn’t mind if they were, your parents and all, I mean…And c’mon, babe, you know me; you know I wouldn’t say something like that and mean it for like every goddamn possible context and situation in the whole world or something, you know that.” “…” “Okay yeah, maybe in front of your family and everyone wasn’t the best place to say that, I agree. But I made a mistake, babe. I’m sorry. What do you want me to say?” “…” “And like, you know I sincerely wish them the best of health and everything, honest. I do. And you know I love them so much, like almost as much as I love you, babe, really. And geeze, I hope they took it sincerely when I said to them that I wished them the best of health and all.” “…” “But like, do you think they did?” “…” “I mean I hope they did, because I really did mean it. Sincerely. And yeah, of course they stress me out and I get super anxious for things like this, for things like tonight’s dinner; and okay, sure, maybe I might’ve had maybe one too many glasses of wine; and I might’ve had one too many Klonopins; you know I’m sorry about that, and that it was my mistake and…and that I’m feeling, like, super regretful about it and everything. But like, I obviously didn’t mean it seriously at all, I swear.” “…” “But I did say I’m sorry to everyone, like straight out in front of everyone; gave my sincerest apologies when we had to leave right after I said everything. And you know also that I’m gonna go tomorrow and personally call, like, every single one of your family members that were in attendance tonight, you know I will. Even our nieces, too.” “…” “Okay yeah, point taken: I did have one too many Klonopins and was feeling relaxed and non-anxious and short-sighted-slash-absent-minded and, like, unaware—like, unaware and not thinking of the potential consequences, sure. But like, they stress me out, you know that, babe. You can’t blame me for being stressed.” “…” “Like, I don’t know what you want me to say. What do you want to hear, babe? What can I say? I’m grasping for straws here, babe.” “…” “Okay, I don’t know, maybe I’ll like give you another circumstance. Like, for instance, maybe if I were on, for example, maybe a cruise ship or a resort or, like, a deserted island or something for, like, a week or two and it was just me and your parents—just them and I— maybe then, I don’t know, maybe then I might perhaps not mind them just conking out or something. Because like, I don’t know if I’d be able to stand them for that long…and then especially now considering what they must probably be thinking towards me.” “…” “But like what can I say, babe? I’m sorry, honest. I’m only human. Like what, do you want me to be superhuman? Do you want me to be perfect? Is that what you want?” 6 “…” “Do you want me to be Superman or something? For God’s sake, babe. Because you know what, you know what? You sure as heck aren’t perfect either, babe. Like sure, I could maybe have a little more tact, I know that, and I’m working on it babe, honest, I’m really trying. But like, do you think a perfect person would get all pissy and quiet towards someone who made one goddamn mistake, babe? Do you?” “…” “Like are you even listening to me babe? Is there anything going on in there?” “…” “Or like, do you think a perfect person would perhaps be able to, like, get pregnant after practically two goddamn years of trying? Or to just try to, like, attempt—to make a single goddamn effort, babe—to back me up in the slightest back at your parents’? Oh, and that’s even with fertility treatments for, like, the past six months or something? Does that sound perfect to you? To, like, just stand there all horror-struck and blank and all, babe, while I’m, like, standing there fumbling over my words, just, like—oh, and not to even mention plus chairs, babe—I’m, like, standing there and literally fumbling, trying to get to the door, and not in any stable mental state whatsoever to even have an inkling of thought regarding what to, like, do in that situation, babe? With your family being there looking at me as if they, like, weren’t even aware—like, not only hadn’t considered, but couldn’t even possibly goddamn imagine, couldn’t comprehend—that the, like, the me that was, like, standing there, babe, was an actual person; someone standing and looking back at them and actually being aware of the, like, utter, like, contempt they looked at me with? And then not even being able to back me up or something? To support me at all? And to just be standing there goddamn beside them? With them? Like don’t you think, babe, that maybe a relationship—a fucking committed relationship—requires like a certain level of, like, I don’t know, unity, babe?” “…” “Don’t you?” “…” “…” “…” “Okay.