Archive for Rated R

PC 464: Needle Mouth


Needle Mouth

by Bonnie Jo Stufflebeam

 

When Hana Samsa woke from a fevered nap one afternoon, she found that she had been transformed into an enormous mosquito. At the foot of her bed, her tiny legs thumped against an empty bottle of Becherovka; she’d pushed it there that morning after licking the last particles of bittersweet liquor from the cap. Her head pounded in the faint light of the gas lantern by the bedside, but when she raised her new insect arms to massage her temples, they wouldn’t bend. She felt quite sure that, when she had escaped Anastázie’s embrace that morning in order to retrieve the Becherovka from beneath the bed, she had been human, had used her human tongue to lap the inside of the cap, had nudged her human head back under Anastázie’s arm and rested it on her chest, had breathed with human nostrils the sunshine smell of Anastázie’s skin. Now Anastázie was gone, likely off to work at the school, and Hana had gained four extra legs and a mouth like a needle.

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PodCastle 460, ARTEMIS RISING: The Settlement


The Settlement

by Wendi Dunlap

They file out into the predawn chill before the rest of the settlement is awake. Cloaked by a thick fog and the still darkness of a waning night, they carry shovels and picks. Despite the high collars and low hats that conceal their faces, their attempts at anonymity are wasted. I recognize them instantly through the frost of the kitchen window, their layers of clothing stitched by my own hand or those of my brethren.

I see you Reverend John Able, Matthias Smith, Thomas Gore, William Roe and Matthew Surgeon. And God sees you too.

They are silent in their duties, barely even looking at one another. Their breath visible in heavy puffs that quickly condense into white frost, as they pound the hard, frozen earth. They dig deeper, until the ground cracks, and still farther until they hit bone. It is hard work and it takes an hour before the first body is pulled up.

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PodCastle Miniature 95: The Stories She Tells Herself

Show Notes

Rated R.


The Stories She Tells Herself

by Kelly Sandoval

He stole her skin. Yes, that’s the one. He stole her skin, so he had her heart. Or her soul. The part of her that would have fought him otherwise.

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PodCastle 452: Hibakusha

Show Notes

For more links and information on butoh see here:

Sankai Juku – Clips from Umusuna.

Interview with Ushio Amagatsu (Artistic Director of Sankai Juku) and Theater Critic Tamotsu Watanabe

Tatsumi Hijikata – Hosotan (part 1)

Kazuo Ohno – The Written Face

Hisako Horikawa & Min Tanaka, 1988 Performance


Hibakusha

by L.P. Lee

The closer I get to the island, the more of a dream Tokyo becomes. The obelisks of high glass, the polished people, their nails and shoes so clean. The neon canopies, the subtle dishes, the cab drivers with white gloves on their hands.  I leave it behind on the train ride down. Down to the fishing town with its  immaculate streets and kindly grandmother, who  hosted me in her ryokan and made me a breakfast of rice and fish. Now the fish scatter before my boat, clean waves break against the hull, and the green island looms ahead, rising from the horizon like an old god.

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