FLEAS ON THE DOG COMPLETE ISSUE 3 403 P./115,286 WORDS 46 SUBMISSIONS 1 WELCOME ! Issue 3 July 1, 2019 Sure size isn’t everything but we still like it when people think we have a BIG…um…Issue. And a BIG issue it is! Welcome to Fleas on the Dog. We’re a no frills, brown bag online lit rag. (We like to think we’re underground with our heads sticking out.) We don’t care about pretty pictures or fancy layouts. We’re interested in one thing and one thing only: GOOD WRITING! Our lone mandate is quality which means if your mother likes your writing we probably won’t. A special feature we are introducing with Issue 3 is HOTS--‘hands off the submissions!’ As you peruse the stories and articles you will notice that each has a different look. That’s because we upload our accepted submissions exactly as received. We like this approach because it creates a sense of visual diversity and emphasizes the writer as an individual in a way a uniform format does not. Similarly, while we occasionally soft edit, in some stories we don’t correct typos or grammar glitches in the interest of voice authenticity. We’re proud to announce that three writers are making their publishing debut in this issue. Congratulations to Rachel Adams, Lou Morrison and Tom Smith! And among our roster of distinguished veteran writers we are honoured to feature the 2017 Mona Schreiber Prize Winner for Humorous Fiction and Nonfiction (Debbie Miller), Poetry in the Arts First Place Award and Dorfman Prize winner (Gerard Sarnat), First Prize winner Autumn House Press Fiction Award (Ashley Cowger), the 2017 Lorien Prize winner (Howie Good), the 2 times winner of the Excellent Awards from Ohio Arts Council (Ivars Balkits) and 2 Pushcart Prize nominees (W. Tyler Paterson and Dennis Pahl). It’s a big fresh lineup with lots of diversity and talent that rocks. We hope you enjoy it. Until we meet again in Issue 4, spread the love and remember, READ is the best four letter word in the world. Tom, Charles, Richard, Robert and Steve 2 3 TABLE OF CONTENTS ISSUE THREE FICTION 1. ‘Artificial Mother’ by Tina Cabrera (Speculative/Experimental), 8-27 2. ‘God is Dead’ by Debbie Miller (Mainstream/Humour), 28-48 3. ‘Through Amazed Eyes’ by Leila Allison (Mainstream), 49-57 4. ‘The Complete Plays of Shakespeare, Condensed’ by Rachel Rodman (Literary/Farce), 58-73 5. ‘Salt’ by Warren J. Jones III (Flash/Literary), 74-77 6. ‘Fifty-Four Minutes’ by Ashley Cowger (Mainstream), 78-91 7. ‘An Unwritten Love Letter’ by Tom Smith (Mainstream), 92-96 8. ‘KAIJU!’ by David Stevens (Speculative/Literary), 97-108 9. ‘My Man Clarence’ by L. B. Davis (Dirty Realism), 109-114 10.’Get Off Me’ by Berren Thamper (Metafiction), 115-123 11. ‘Still Dreaming’ by Brantly Hutchison (Literary), 124-135 12. ‘Oh the Buoyancy of the Unmanned Heirship!’ by George Constantin (Satire/Literary), 136-144 13. ‘4 Prose Poems’ by Howie Good (Flash/Literary), 145-146 14. ‘Tommy Tutone’ by Dan Cardoza (Flash), 147-151 15. ‘Book of Ours’ by Adam Houchens (Flash/Literary), 152-154 16. ‘Heaven Starts Here’ by Larry Smith (Dirty Realism), 155-161 17. ‘Tom the Sheep’ by Rachel Adams (Satire), 162-168 18. ‘So Just So’ by John Kuligowski (Flash/Literary), 169-171 19. ‘Talking UFOs’ by Robert Spiegel (Mainstream), 172-180 20. ‘Mustache’ by Dennis Pahl (Literary/Absurdist), 181-194 21. ‘Graveyard Shift’ by Pamela Dae (Flash/Horror), 195-199 4 22. ‘Chokecherry’ by Connor de Bruler (Dirty Realism), 200-212 23. ‘PSST!’ by Stephen Baily (Flash/Literary), 213-216 24. ‘That Time I Watched Iron Man 2 with James Franco’ by W. Tyler Paterson (Real People Fiction), 217- 226 25. ‘Little Rivers: A Story of Haley’s Hyperhidrosis Hands’ by Charles J. March III (Literary), 227-239 26. ‘Denise’ by Gregorio Tafoya (Mainstream), 240-255 27. ‘The Girl Who Wanted to Live in a Greenhouse’ by Cesar Valdebenito (Magic Realism), 256-261 28. ‘The Foolhardy Boys’ by Jim George (Satire/Word Play), 262-270 29. ‘And You Thought Dragons Didn’t Exist’ by Dave Thomas (Flash/Satire), 271-272 30. Mukduk by Charlie Leo (Nano), 273 31. ‘As Anyone Can See It’/’Tomahawk’ by William Blome (Flash/Literary), 274-278 32. ‘I dreamt a little dream of me’ by Lance Manion (Flash/Literary), 279-281 33. ‘All the Colors’ by Sandra Bazarelli (Literary), 282-284 34. ‘The Part of Me That Was Actually Me’ by Franco Amati (Mainstream), 285-290 ISSUE THREE NONFICTION 1. ‘Review of Three Restaurants’ by E. Avery Cale (Gonzo/Word Play), 292-299 2. ‘The Man of My Dreams, Deferred’ by Kimberly Diaz (Memoir), 300-303 3. ‘A Rock’ by Donald Mitchell (Creative Nonfiction), 304-307 4. ‘Sexbots and the Consent Revolution’ by Victoria Brooks. (Essay), 308-311 5 5. ‘The Red Pill’ by Zen Wang (Social Diatribe, Part Two), 312-350 6. ‘Master of the Obvious’ by Ken Mootz (Satire), 351-353 7. ‘Reading Gravity’s Rainbow in Exile’ by Lou Morrison (Gonzo/Memoir), 354-368 8. ‘Cow Ideas’ by Ivar Balkits (Creative Nonfiction), 369-373 9. ‘Notes on Losing Things’ by Holland Morris (Memoir), 374-377 10. ‘In Style’ by Sopphey Vance (Memoir), 378-382 11. ‘Fight Me The Romantics Would Have Loved EMO music’ by Aurora Dimitre (Essay), 383-388 12. ‘Apocalypse then and Now’ by Gerard Sarnat (Gonzo/Hybrid), 389-403 6 FICTION 7 ARTIFICAL MOTHER By Tina Cabrera WHY WE LIKE IT: What was science fiction in the past is reality now. The consequences of this unstoppable advance are both frightening and exciting. When it comes to writing, sometimes genre fiction—speculative, sci/fi, dystopian-- is a more amenable avenue to address the concerns of the future—our future, than the more traditional literary routes. We can’t think of any better example of this than ‘Artificial Mother’. And while in the very best stories we don’t believe you can really isolate style from content, we admit to being spellbound by the author’s translucent prose, fluent voice and the effortless facility with which she summons images and le bon mot. A superlative experimental short story that left us star struck. When you try to imagine the birth, you imagine it more as a retrieval than a sudden appearance brought on by hours of maternal agony; unlike your birth and that of every other baby for thousands of generations, this one will not require hours of physical suffering. No element of surprise. Your baby will have evolved before your eyes, that is, if you visit regularly as suggested in the coming weeks. Talk to the baby—that should be especially easy considering the baby is suspended like a lovely seahorse for anyone to see. Don't hold back, for she can hear you. Sing to her and then watch for a response. New Birth means greater transparency. Mimic a natural pregnancy if you hope to form a bond before arrival. Arrival. Emergence. Which word best describes New Birth birth? “Arrival” and “emergence” can be used 8 interchangeably to denote the appearance of something new. Nothing can quite compare to observing close-up and personal your baby’s growth from conception to emergence; that's right--you decide that you prefer the sound of the word "emerge" and all that it connotes. Traditional mothers claimed they felt their baby's growth within their bellies, but you can't help but balk at that sentiment. You get to witness your baby's transformation before your very eyes. That's right, she's your baby despite the distance between her body and yours. At first, you feel a bit self-conscious, cooing and cawing and making your best baby noises, even though there is no one else in the holding room but you and her. Just behind the biobag on the wall hangs a diagram of gestation from Week 1 to Week 28. Tiny as a pea, you are relieved to see that your baby is just the right size for Week 8. The perfect artificial pregnancy. No physical discomfort, unpleasantness, or ill effects; no nausea or vomiting. No pelvic pressure, no itchy, expanding belly. At Week 12, you play your choice of music in place of pre-recorded lullabies that mimic the human heartbeat. This set-up is well intentioned but an obvious hold over from traditional pregnancies. With neither you nor the baby possessing one, you decide that to continue playing musical rhythms similar to the human heartbeat would be pointless if not deceiving. Still, you agree that music is the universal language no matter the advancements, and so you play a variety with rhythms, beats and melodies conveying a range of emotions, from melancholy to elation, resignation to confusion. You play your favorite albums on the antique record player that they permitted you to set up in the private hospital room, wishing to expose your baby to the musical richness 9 of your childhood. You are quite pleased to see signs of excitement: the baby jolts, and like a betta fish gulping underwater, her mouth rounds into an O of pure joy. In the ensuing weeks, you play music of various eras from before the Change: Wagner’s Faust Overture; Billie Holiday’s Essential Rare Collection; Mariya Takeuchi’s Variety; Keith Jarrett’s Koln Concert, circa 1975, the year your own mother was born. You close your eyes and imagine piano fingers lilting across the keys with speed and grace. Taking particular pleasure in exuberant bursts of “Ooh” and “Aah,” you lift the needle and set it down on to repeat that part, hoping the fetus will sense the joyous human energy.