On "The Inheritor" by Ann Gelder (4701 words) ****

Gelder's "Inheritor" intrigues from word 1. It's the second person again, and the feeling of conspiracy that Gelder provides for us--we're going to play along with her for a while, participate in this what if scenario. And the scenario? Well, that's intriguing too. What if you're a B-level celebrity and some other B-level celebrity whose recent claim to fame is that he's been able to predict celebrity deaths predicts yours? Yeah, it's a bit of a crazy notion, but how would one react if there's a statistical analysis saying said prognosticator is always right? Time to prep for the end of life? Time to find out just how it's going to happen? Time to laugh off such schenanigans? Or time to get ready for career recovery, since you're now famous enough to have your death predicted? I think the last might be the wisest option. But let's say that's not what you do . . . Read the story here at Slush Pile.

On "Friend of the Sick" by Nic Brown (3501 words) ***

Nic Brown's story tells a story about the sick in a different way. It's not an overly sentimental piece about how great this sick person is or was, how much we'll miss the person. It's about how, although this is our best friend, we continue on, concerned, but also somewhat hoping for the death--and for almost entirely selfish reasons. But our narrator isn't some misanthrope. She's just a regular person like you and me, with a set of emotions that are confused and all over the place, and life goes on, and the sick get sicker and sicker. Read all about it here at Slush Pile.

On "The Saint of the Impossible" by David Levinson (7558 words) ****

Here's another breakup story. Even though there seem to be many such stories, good ones are hard to come by. Most good stories about relationships seem to focus more on a life long past the end or on a life as it's moving toward that end. Focusing on those closing moments themselves, however, is something a bit different. Perhaps writing a good breakup story is hard because the emotions that make such a story great fodder are also what tend to make such stories sentimental tin cans.

Levinson, however, is in control of his material. The story of an agent and his singer, a boy and his older lover, a has been and another has been, the piece speaks of what was and is no longer to be. Sometimes we tattoo the names of our loved ones on our bodies, but what are we to do with the tattoos once those names are just words signifying nothing? Read the story here at Slush Pile.