The Rialto Books Review Vol. 016
Buy The Rialto Books Review Vol. 016 here.
Buy a 2022 subscription to The Rialto Books Review here.
You can check out via Stripe by following the links below. Each sale generated through these links will automatically kickback a portion of the sale to the listed author.
The Rialto Books Review Vol. 016 includes Kill the Dog by Brendan Mitchell, I Depart a Stranger, pt. 6 by Alexandra Ranieri, and The Sally, Act II Scene II by Russell Block.
Kill The Dog
by Brendan Mitchell
First, it should go without saying we have to kill her. The science is there, on the page. And I was there for all of it, you know, even her displacement. I mean she told me all about it. The last thing she heard, she said. Was I wouldn’t pay you to wash my car, bitch. She was climbing from the crotch of her final John when it happened, really. An embolism burst in the front of her brain like a microwaved egg. She didn’t keel over onto the guy, ruin his day, no. She auto-displaced. Which is a term we use to describe people (or things) that tend to be right there then abruptly somewhere else. Like when you drop a ring in the garden and it’s just gone.
I Depart a Stranger
by Alexandra Ranieri
On one of the most picturesque streets in the city, in one of its most picturesque neighborhoods, sat a row of picturesque storefronts, painted a myriad of colors. These teemed at all hours with every city variety of fauna; pigeons and rats fought for space alongside locals and tourists alike. At every corner sat a hunched figure with a cardboard sign, gargoyles on the roof of the abyss; and huddled in amongst the bars and clothing shops, nearly squeezed out of its facade by the bookshop next door, a steep and narrow staircase led to Mrs. Phyllis: Psychic and Card Reader.
The Sally Act II Scene II
by Russell Block
SALLY. Did you miss me? This second shift’s every necessity, or so they were described to me, have I fetched; all the vials, bulk liquids, varnishes, and bottles for to drink, are at hand or in the car’s grossest buckets, which are too heavy for human consumption.
EDISON. I will carry those in in a moment. Whenever the gross containers need moving, the grossest among us are conveniently unable to haul their like into the garage; but, as has been said by wiser men than me, opposites attract, and too much in the way of similarities enforces a profound absence.
SALLY. Where are you going?
EDISON. Off to get the buckets, as I must. Perfection of this boat’s every flaw is the only remedy certain to carry Bertrand off into the sunset, and away from us.
Exit EDISON.
SALLY. But where, I wonder, will that leave Edison and I?
