Duke and the Neon Soup

Duke’s hand was wet. Not soaking, but damp in the way that means something had either spilled recently… or someone had cried. Duke didn’t remember crying, but with him, you never know. The little Lhasa Apso named Niles was staring up at him, his old tail wagging like a half-charged metronome. Louie was passed out,…

Duke and the Bomb

Duke was halfway through a movie he’d seen ten times before and somehow just now realized, for the tenth time—the lizard was talking. Not metaphorically. Literally. He paused the screen. Rewound. Watched it again. Still a lizard. Still talking. Or is that an eel? That’s when he knew: this weed was different. The jar of…

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