“This author has confected a compelling new uncanny life form under the sign of the slime mold. With phrases of lyric flight, garlands of theory, camouflaged confession, diagrams and screenshots, this piece is something like an essay, something like a collage, something like a thaumatrope where one sees a bird flying, something like a breakdown on the dancefloor of a space-cruiser abandoning the planet for good. If a slime mold could burn, it would burn with this unwholesome green light.” — Flash prose judge Joyelle McSweeney

from BWR 44.2

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