by Jim Stitzel | Mar 27, 2017 | Stories
Jimmy set his lunch down on the break table and plopped down in a chair, heaving a huge sigh. “Man, what a day,” he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. “Uh…” Frank said, looking at Jimmy then glancing quickly away to catch...
by Jim Stitzel | Sep 3, 2010 | Stories
Fog drifted, wet and heavy, over the short mall between the Wetherill Laboratory of Chemistry and Stanley Coulter Hall. Six tall lampposts bathed everything in an eerie, orange glow. The hour was late, and the campus was deserted — deserted but for one. She stood at...
by Jim Stitzel | Aug 23, 2010 | Stories
The place smelled like shit and piss. “I thought these things didn’t have bodily excretions,” I called out to my partner. “They’re not supposed to,” she replied. “For some reason this one does. Someone’s been hard at work making a clank that can process food the way...
