Cuts and Wounds
By M.J. Hong

I open the door to my apartment and find Jesus Christ sitting on the futon watching Judge Judy. Did Mom send him? I haven’t been returning her calls.

How was your day? He scoots over. The futon’s still open as a bed. I’ve stopped folding it up in the mornings. I sit down, car key still in hand. Just in case.

Good, I say, which comes out sounding more like a question.

I work at a 24-hour copy center, intending it only as temporary gig in a string of part-time jobs after art school. But here I am, five years later, still showing customers how to use the self-service copiers, still moving stacks of paper from one place to another, collating, stapling, and binding, and getting a paper cut if I’m not careful. That’s the worst. The papercuts. I can almost do my job in my sleep if it weren’t for the throbbing cuts.

I asked this girl out, I say.

She’s a new associate with sorrowful eyes and hair that ripples like water when she walks. Jesus turns toward me and his eyes light up. I haven’t dated in a few years—okay, maybe more than a few, but Jesus must know that already.

She said she’d think about it.

Helping Everyone Think True
By Robert D Marion

Ethan chewed his lip. He glanced down at his phone—at the TrueThink app. Having heard his and Adeline’s entire conversation, the program chirped.

> Thank her for her time. Inform her that this situation makes you uncomfortable. Be polite as you leave.

His shoulders sank. Ethan re-read the message, but he hadn’t misunderstood. Sighing, he tucked his phone into his pocket. Adeline must have read the look on his face. She, too, seemed to sag.

“Th … thanks for your time.” Ethan slowly stood from the study hall table, gathering his laptop and notebook. “I’m not comfortable here, I guess. I should probably go.”

He stood there, knowing he should leave. Both arms weighed heavily with his computer and notebooks. But he didn’t move. Adeline noticed. Her freckles tightened as her brows rose. Her hand reached out, almost touching his arm. She pulled back, palm pressed to her throat instead.