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Perfect: Fiction by Elizabeth Zelvin
Duck, Duck, Goosed: Fiction by E. E. Williams
Call Back: Fiction by Brian Peter Fagan
Hanging Out: Fiction by Kenneth James Crist
Jelly Boy: Fiction by Cindy Rosmus
Billy's First Road Trip: Fiction by Shari Held
Craps: Fiction by Steve Carr
Blackout Blonde: Fiction by M. J. Holt
Can Lid: Fiction by Frank S. Karl
Hacked Off: Fiction by Pamela Ebel
The Poser: Fiction by Hillary Lyon
Trunk Space: Fiction by Jen Myers
Catching Up: Fiction by Edward Ahern
Butcher Knives Don't Float: Fiction by Chris Milam
The Grimsby Reaper: Flash Fiction by Jon Park
Bat Boy: Flash Fiction by Zvi A. Sesling
For Love: Flash Fiction by K. A. Williams
Getting Personal: Flash Fiction by Diana Dominguez
Owen and Jessica: Flash Fiction by Joseph Carrabis
Until I Wrestled It Back: Flash Fiction by Louella Lester
Lying in Wait: Flash Fiction by Robb White
Fox Fox Fanny Cuts: Poem by Otto Burnwell
Beer and Love Songs on a Wednesday Night: Poem by Richard Le Due
Her Wicked Devices: Poem by Lee Clarke Zumpe
Looking at the Sea: Poem by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
Twilight Zone Kind of Days: Poem by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
The Canvas: Poem by Meg Baird
me and the boys: Poem by Meg Baird
ode to sleep: Poem by Meg Baird
Plate Tectonics:Poem by Christopher Hivner
Seeking:Poem by Christopher Hivner
Bloodbound: Poem by Harris Coverley
Paradise: Poem by Harris Coverley
The Now Outside: Poem by Harris Coverley
Dallas County Phone Calls: Poem by Daniel G. Snethen
Two Old Ladies Arrested for Feeding Feral Cats: Poem by Daniel G. Snethen
Her Name Isn't Margo, but it Should Be: Poem by Daniel G. Snethen
Yorick: Poem by Daniel G. Snethen
After First Sex: Poem by Rp Verlaine
The New Same Goodbye: Poem by Rp Verlaine
Fishermen: Poem by Rp Verlaine
Three Years Ago: Poem by Rp Verlaine
the smallest feline is a masterpiece--da vinci: poem by Rob Plath
no typewriter or ABCs necessary: Poem by Rob Plath
my cat sleeps: Poem by Rob Plath
it's enough: Poem by Rob Plath
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Dark Tales from Gent's Pens

Zvi Sesling: Bat Boy

Art by Michael D. Davis © 2023

Bat Boy


Zvi A. Sesling


          Back in the 1950s Dickie McGregor was the Washington Senators’ centerfielder and his best friend was Walter (Stem) Stemcarzyk. The two were inseparable after the baseball games and usually could be found in the same bar downing beers or maybe the hotel lounge where the team was staying sipping martinis.

          Stem, a bachelor would often pick up a couple of women and he and Dickie would then have some entertainment for the night.  One evening Stem told Dickie he had a ticket to the rodeo but could not go because he had a date, so gave his ticket to his friend.

          Dickie went to rodeo held in Virginia, about forty minutes from Washington. After a while he got bored watching men in cowboy outfits ride bulls or horses and get thrown to the ground.  He found his car in the parking lot and began driving. Though the traffic was as usual in the Washington area it took him a bit more than an hour to get back to his suburban home. There he saw a car parked in front of his house.  Dickie turned off the motor, reached into the back seat for his baseball bat, and left the car quietly closing the driver side door and tiptoeing into his home. There he found his wife with Stem on the couch, her blouse off, his pants down to his knees.

          “Some date, you rat,” Dickie blurted. Dickie’s wife sat up, put her blouse back on and Stem pulled up his pants. 

          “It ain’t what it seems Dickie boy, it ain’t what it seems.”

          “Yeah, so what is it?”

          Dickie’s wife ran out of the room crying and Stem tried to think of what to say.

          “Look, I … we ….” That was as far as Stem got as Dickie brought up the bat from behind his back and with a swing that had hit twenty home runs struck Stem squarely in the temple. 

          Three days later the Senators game was postponed so a funeral could be held. The whole team attended, including Dickie McGregor, who gave the eulogy.


Zvi A. Sesling, Brookline, MA Poet Laureate (2017-2020), has published numerous poems and flash/micro fiction and won international prizes. A five-time Pushcart Prize nominee, he has published four volumes and three chapbooks of poetry. His flash fiction book is Secret Behind the Gate. He lives in Brookline, MA. with his wife Susan J. Dechter.

If Charles Addams, Edgar Allan Poe, and Willy Wonka sired a bastard child it would be the fat asthmatic by the name of Michael D. Davis. He has been called warped by dear friends and a freak by passing strangers. Michael started drawing cartoons when he was ten, and his skill has improved with his humor, which isn’t saying much. He is for the most part self-taught, only ever crediting the help of one great high school art teacher. His art has been shown at his local library for multiple years only during October due to its macabre nature. If you want to see more of Michael’s strange, odd, weird, cartoons you can follow him on Instagram at mad_hatters_mania.

In Association with Black Petals & Fossil Publications © 2023