Three Stories
We began to believe, as how could we not, that at least some of it was performance, fake news, theater created not for the sake of our entertainment, but something analogous to entertainment, a desire to keep us watching: the bombing this morning, for example, in a city on the other side of the world, a city we had never heard of, or else which we had an inexact sense that we may have heard of, a city the name of which may have been similar to some other city we had heard of before and forgotten. All at once this bombing filled our timelines, filled them so thoroughly that anyone who spoke of anything else, problems getting groceries, jokes about the president, complaints about the president, personal illness, opinions on television shows or movies, immediately outed themselves as heartless.
Three new microfictions by James Tadd Adcox.