yesterday’s writing session was a low point producing a terrible poem slash yeats pun called The 2.0 Coming. first line: “The falcon says fuck you and flies off.”
o well. today, i’ve a new story in The Baffler. it’s called SPACE DETECTIVE and takes place in your kitchen the day before yesterday i mean in the flung far future. maybe you’ll like it? thanks to JW.
SPACE DETECTIVE HAS HER FEET ON THE DESK of her basement office. She is profoundly bored. A series of disasters has conspired to confine her to her house for several months.
She had thought she was too old for it but several of her friends have already done it. The thick fog of boredom, which she momentarily and perfunctorily acknowledges as an aspect of entitlement, finally convinces her to go. She activates the cryogen casket. She takes the pill. She puts on the suit and helmet. She double checks the IV lines and lays down in the casket. She hums the passcode and is instantly sent to Videogame.
read the rest here: https://thebaffler.com/fiction/space-detective-lim