Julissa’s Haunted Rodeo
“This is the worst night of my life, but I’m only fifteen.” Dad regards me indecipherably from the couch, his sweet potato chip pausing in midair. “I’m being optimistic, actually,” I tell him. “Today is the worst night of my life, but in a decade it won’t even be top ten.” He flicks the chip […]
On Milligan Street
I met up with Manny Valez at Rocco’s Irish Tavern in Somerville, a bar that had been a hangout for our group of mutual friends back when we were in college, mostly due to the bar’s lax policies on carding. It had been a rancid, skanky dive back then, but it had since gone into […]
Teaching to the Test
With so few schools for uninfected children left, that meant I was out of a job—until the government passed the No Infected Left Behind Act. Teaching a class of forty teenagers who are developmentally-disabled cannibals isn’t as bad as it sounds. Really, they act out less than the average high school student. And the job […]
Missed Calls
At first, the calls from the dead helped out a lot—parents decades lost to cancer finally able to cry to their kids, you made me so proud. Sure, closure is mostly a bullshit torture device. But tell that to someone who just got their first night’s sleep in months after a sister who died of […]
The Enchanted Gardener
When Lyssa the Fair swept into the greenhouse, I knew right away she was bad news. First of all, she’d bypassed my security system at the front of the store which, okay, consisted of a bell on a string and a retired cat-demigod-librarian napping on the job. But the bell should’ve tripped. Instead, the famed […]
Closing Submissions for the month of June 2021
We will be closed to submissions for the month of June to give us a chance to get caught up. We will reopen again on July 1. Questions or queries can be sent to editor@giganotosaurus.org.
Just Enough Rain
1. The Funeral I wasn’t surprised when God showed up for Mom’s funeral. They’d always been close. He slipped in the back during my eulogy in the form of a stranger. I don’t think that any of the various relatives noticed Him. For all they knew, it could have been some old flame of hers […]
Kuemo of the Masks
This is the story of Akemuz, corn-mother, grave-mother This is the story of her grief and her fury Of her wanderings, on the earth and below the earth The year turns, we wait for the rains O Akemuz! Hear your story, dwell in us Feed us, sustain us, preserve us So. You want a story. […]
Slow Eshtyca
Vilma, 1 The samohod drove Vilma half-way up the mountain before its engine began to struggle with the slope, coughing up plumes of soot. When the vehicle heaved its last gasoline breath, she abandoned it by the road and continued to the highlands on foot. By dawn, she reached Slow Eshtyca; the village’s […]