Shortshortshort.com, Sept/Oct 2007

Bruce Holland Rogers, the creative force behind shortshortshort.com, served up a mixed sextet of ultrashort stories for September and October, 2007. Here you’ll find some of Rogers’s best work, as well as some less-than-stellar tales.

“Stoppage” is not one of Rogers’s clearer stories. A cat sitting on sheet music provides the inspiration for a metaphysical digression on the related subjects of identity, change, and death. Perhaps it’s not so much a digression as a procrastination, since mention is made of some examination papers which need grading. The thoughts are so scattershot, it would seem the thinker doesn’t need the cat to move his butt off the sheet music; he needs medication.

The mourner in “Reconstruction Work” has some kinship with the morticians who have primped the deceased, but from the outset, his purpose seems far more sinister than theirs. What follows is an innuendo-rich conversation with the deceased’s granddaughter, yet the mourner’s goal becomes evident only in the end. This is a satisfying little story, aesthetically whole from its title to its last sentence. (Honestly, who expects closure by return in a 644-word story?) The reader might anticipate some sort of magical transformation, perhaps the transfer of the deceased’s soul, but the denouement has more in common with Orwell than with the magical realists.

What if you could buy a simultaneous orgasm as easily as any other anniversary gift? In “Home Made,” the simultaneous orgasm sits in a box, unopened, gathering dust. The protagonist takes this as a sign that all is well in their relationship, and indeed, Rogers gives no indication to the contrary. Perhaps this is the true worth of the gift: its disuse testifies to its owners’ healthy marriage. But one wonders how many of us would let such a thing go to waste.

“Night Life” is at once dreamlike and lyrical. It is the story of a life, from infancy to death, told in the moments of hypnagogic reverie before sleep and the midnight wakings of a child, a mother, an ancient. “Night Life” is Rogers at his best.

As social/political commentary goes, “Contagion” could be more subtle. Rogers’s premise: a virus leaves its victims happy but otherwise intact, thus posing a threat to all whose livelihoods depend on an angry, discontented, fearful populace. Now the advertisers, military-industrial complex, and governments are running scared. Part spec fiction, part satire, “Contagion” is too transparent to be much fun.

Davin and Mary’s argument threatens to spiral into violence in “Animal Control,” but an unnamed varmint provides a timely distraction. The critter’s home invasion might save Mary from Davin, but the end result is the same: the house is a mess, neighbors have called the cops, and Mary is bruised. The metaphor here is obvious, reminding the reader of the faults of the preceding story; but what elevates “Animal Control” above “Contagion” is its chilling, memorable ending.