Adam Spielman

A writer's blog.

The Psycho Rapist Pasture wasn’t really a pasture. It was more like a circular prison that never came around all the way, and in the middle there was an off-limits garden. Jim figured calling it a pasture was some kind of euphemism. “And if you’ll look over here,” said the chipper tour guide, “you’ll see …

Continue reading

The Downtown Apocalypse Exchange was on the corner of Smoke Street and Mirror Avenue. Steel and glass rose out of the thoroughfare and knifed into the Paradise sky. Jim followed Rockefeller in through the revolving doors.

Well, if you’ve been following these crazy stories at all, you’ll have noticed that there’s been a significant drop in the rate of posts lately.  I finally got another story uploaded – if you didn’t see it on the main page it’s right here.  It’s a two or three parter, so expect some more soon. …

Continue reading

Small Town, Paradise. Green yards and clean air and split-level houses. A post office, a police station, a grocery store, five bars and a set of stoplights. Autumn in the afternoon and summer in the evening, and every evening a new episode of Financially Stable and Moderately Happy Family. Jim watched from up the road …

Continue reading

“I don’t dream anymore.” “Nobody dreams anymore.” “Is it still possible to dream? In this place?” “Well, anything is possible. But no, not really.” “I miss it.” “You miss it?” “Dreams. Dreaming.” “They’re just dreams.” “You don’t miss dreams?” “No.” “When I was a kid I dreamed about the world series and hitting a homerun. …

Continue reading

Shank rattled down the sidewalk. In some distant and huddled corner of consciousness he remembered what the inside of the city felt like, what it looked like. He looked at himself from that place: the jitter of his eyes, the disheveled clothes, the wild hair, the tweak in his walk. He was repulsive. Dangerous. He …

Continue reading

“So. Jim. Why do you want to become an angel?” “I think I’m pretty good with people,” Jim said. This was his first job interview in a few hundred years and he was a little rusty. The executive sitting across from him was a serious woman with glasses and thin lips. She looked at him …

Continue reading

The angel at the docks pointed north and Jim thanked her for the canoe. He rowed for an hour and came to a place where the lake became narrow and snaked between roots and rocks. It opened up into a silent cove. The water looked like a block of metal reflecting the sky, and in …

Continue reading

This is Christopher Hitchens, reporting dead from the godless soup of eternity. Approximately ten hours ago – ten hours relative to what remains unclear – the atomic ejaculate of a Tennessee man cracked the Christian firmaments and the myriad zealots of Christ are swarming. The nest has been stirred, comrades and friends, and they’ve taken …

Continue reading

It was my intention to keep this blog strictly fiction, every inch of content nothing but stories.  But the more I look into this world of blogs the more it seems like kind of a silly and unrealistic goal.  I think it’s alright if this one is mostly stories. First, I want to thank everybody that’s been …

Continue reading