Postmaster General

Dear Author:

Thank you for allowing storySouth to consider your work. We have read it
carefully, but must decline to publish.

We regret that the volume of submissions we receive and the small size of
our staff prevent us from giving a more personal response.

We especially apologize for the long wait many of our authors have
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We wish you the best in placing your work elsewhere.

Dan Albergotti
Poetry Editor, storySouth

> short story submission, thanks for reading:
> little lies / twin islets
> looking into the second stage flip flops with socks dork with glasses
> and earphones, cutter chasing the obese, cutter chasing the middle-aged
> white woman who takes good care of her figure, inl chasing the educated
> minorities, boob jobs ascending, becoming no more educated than when
> they began, living in a prison but they don't know it. executioners
> rising and descending, missed their cue i suppose, all because the
> executed was hidden quite well (you might miss her), his supervisor
> rises to see what's going on, everyone is taking risks, leaving with
> the empty green bag, her sunglasses on top of her head, fake tits
> descends safely making the way for the wrecking crew and the chop shop
> everyone gets new gear i can't hang with her, the email always beling a
> kiss redhead knows, the supervisor has given up and the whole thing has
> turned round on itself people are happy again bless them i suppose it
> was only life.
> repetition, beret coming down, followed by white male bourgeoisie, then
> frat boy, pink bag ascends, the intelligence coming down in backpacks
> and plastic shopping bags, ducks way out in the corner of my eye, inls
> not nearly in so much of a rush as the first time around, the cops know
> on this second go-through what i am up to they are on their cell phone,
> the executed descends again unnoticed, the supervisor trundles back up
> the stairs, finding nothing but smiles all around there is a lie
> enclosed in the failed execution it is the lie that we abide by so that
> the world is not overdetermined, sunglasses again on the top of the
> head how little light and then back into a state of intelligence, the
> gains from the fire sale less impressive this time, the green bag
> becomes a little lighter, looking around, eventually the thing is
> exhausted and i have been found out that's ok there is still time.
> 3rd cycle: pink shirt, black, this time the supervisor is so old he can
> barely ascend, he stares at me directly, knows exactly who i am and how
> i have participated in this lie, if i stay any longer the white leave
> in clothes of dark trying to avoid the execution the green leaves
> dressed as a man, no longer primitive, tries to avert the apocalypse
> this time by learning all possible noble lies, becoming a man in the
> world of laws and fathers, but it is no matter, she still wears red
> pants and dies all the same, her green blood trickling behind blonde
> hair her ear betraying everything the executioner finally satisfied.
> dead, beyond the river styx, the trannie, the one who thought she could
> learns all the ways and that would be enough the supervisor is in a
> congratulatory mood, he brings his friend to inspect her body which she
> voluntarily displays, pulling her hair back to show the wound. the
> world is fascinated, people from the world over come to inspect the
> body. and so it begins again. this is what the world has been waiting
> for. for the holder of the noble lies to give up her ghost so that the
> process of knowledge and education could begin again. the abyss stares
> at me and so i do not hold its gaze. instead a yellow pen is carried in
> the mouth, the next one, forever young red and white, symptomatic of
> that abyss, beautiful knowing how to wear green even before her time,
> the men learning to be quick to avoid the killing, thinking better of
> it, hatted, glasses and jackets, while she is biting her lip in the
> world beyond, limping her best still to ascend, never suspecting him, i
> am now within the prison house it was inevitable, you stay too long and
> you can only take the walkways back no bridges and suddenly they are
> looking at you as at a fresh piece of meat as if you will be the next
> to die so that they can take what they want ding in the three, the most
> intelligent man trading everything for a new book oh yes she knows it
> it is obvious don't be scared green motherfuckers surrounding me
> wanting to take me down into their filth will i will i keep my head
> above the sea now the sunglasses are on the light is at its most
> blinding position and she holds the rifle directly above me all i can
> see are her legs she has learned how to annihilate me so that i might
> die with her taking life two steps at a time too quick i might say at
> that rate i may be able to evade her and her hachet men. i have
> evidently crossed over now it is no longer the woman who is up for
> execution but me the man holding something some lie that is found to be
> attractive i look to my computer to try to find a pathway out they are
> looking at the same thing i am looking at their intelligence has grown
> they can disguise their looks very well perhaps i will get out of here
> perhaps not they keep on bringing in more and more people the squirrel
> tail moving quickly in heat i made my case and now i wait for the
> verdict. the two sides converse. my lawyer seems to say something
> satisfactory: if i remember the dead, i will live.

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