Wife Of A Season

My friend Grey Yuen gave me permission to publish his short story in Singularity. Here’s an excerpt:

What? My brothers? Ah, I did mention that, didn’t I? Yes, I have two. And no, you don’t ask them for help. You do your utter best never to ask them for help, not even when the sky crashes down and the oceans rise. They have just one mode of dealing with womankind, and it’s one solution for all problems. Their thinking is all done in the groin. To them, I’m the monk of the family. Our abusive father managed to pass down his libido in reverse order, somehow. I’m the oldest, you know? The bloody oldest son. What did I get?

It’s written in the form of a monologue. The setting’s a bar, and you enter and sit next to a man. This man then continues to talk to you about his personal stories. At no point does he say who he really is, but from his monologue, you should be able to guess who he is. The title of the short story should also give you a clue. Let’s just say that under normal circumstances, you do not want to meet him.

Read the rest of the short story in the October issue of Singularity (it’s free!).