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This appears in a pre-2010 issue of cc&d magazine. Saddle-stitched issues are no longer printed, but you can requesting it “re-released” through amazon sale as a 6" x 9" ISBN# book! Email us for re-release to order.

CHUMMING

G.A. Scheinoha

There’s no roof over this yawn, rafters squared up under the stars like the ribs of a capsized ark. Might as well be carp bones in the desert, bleached white a hundred generations after the flood. The occupants at the bottom of the slate sided, lumber and nails vessel are already drowning, too little sleep, too much talk.
True, she may have a mouth like a sturgeon, a razor tooth hunger that’ll gnaw the arms off anything in sight. She swims in an ocean of air as freely as the largest predator, scavenges easily as a shark, inhales deeply not only what she smells but everything seen and heard.
He cossacks a path through the frontier of civility, an unknown continent to those without a gentle tongue or passport soul. Somehow, he senses it isn’t enough. The premature ejaculation of his words isn’t fish eggs of any sort; caviar black as a tsar’s heart.
She leaves behind not ain gray tail, nor a stream of bubbles ejected like rejected spawn. Just the torn fuselage, the rattled loose rivets of a life, hewn away as sign she’s been here. Before fantailing, tight hips encased in the flimsy second skin of an obscenely short skirt, tantalizing swish in search of bigger, fleshier prey.

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