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August Highlights
What's New: Famous Paintings In Paris, Slippery Babies, Newt's Lovely Lady, Dead Pets, Bad Poems, Valerie Solanas, New Stories.

Coming Soon: The Best Short Films You've Never Seen, Top Ten Reasons Not To Move To Seattle, Little Things You Can Do to Postpone The End of the World.

They never seemed to know it, but their names were George and Martha. They came in a plain white carton that looked like Chinese takeout.This was after I had practically died from scarlet fever. Nobody told me they were coming. My dad came into my room, carrying the carton, which swayed weirdly, dangling from its little metal handle. He didn't say anything, just set the carton down on my night table, where it danced back and forth. I sat up gingerly; I still felt like a plastic bag full of water. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and had just worked the lid of the carton open when my dad reappeared, carrying a big bag stuffed with cedar shavings. I peeked into the carton, and they peeked up at me, sitting back on their haunches and sniffing, with their little paws cupped under their chins.

"Gerbils," I said.

R.I.P., George and Martha

by Mel Brennan


Hop to the West Coast Boss for a different angle

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Jane Austen, The Oldest Woman in Show Business

Ask the Inpatients: Vox Pops at Harborview Hospital.

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