Intersections/Fast Forward
An eclectic collection of short stories exploring love and loss in modern times, this book merges literary fiction and science fiction in one volume. What is the emotional tipping point, in a relationship or in a life, and are those moments altered by the technology we embrace? In Part I, men and women fall in love, fall apart, and struggle to find human connection through life’s passages. In Part II, characters confront the future possibilities of the actions we take now. Experience an iPod that reveals an affair, a malevolent GPS, e-mail from beyond the grave, an army raised from frozen embryos, addictive love, unrequited love, lost love, and endless love as people and technology cross paths in the stories of Intersections/Fast Forward. Available in hardcover and paperback from Xlibris.
Book trailer photo credits:
Ribbon photos - Andres Velasquez
Author photo - Suzanne Becker Bronk
All other photos - Sheila Scobba Banning
2010 Flash Fiction contests:
The Intersection of . . . .
Call for submissions:“The Intersection of . . . “ Flash Fiction contest offers four subjects for your contemplation and asks you to submit your most interesting 300 words, new or previously published, for any/all. The winner each quarter will receive $25.00 (US) and a signed copy of Intersections/Fast Forward , by Sheila Scobba Banning. Winners will be posted at www.scobba.com.
Guidelines: Up to 300 words, one entry per quarter sent within the given submission period. Send stories to webmaster@lastwrites.net in an e-mail with the topic (The Intersection of . . .) as the subject line, no attachments except PDF. We are not responsible for lost/unreadable submissions and reserve the right to award more than one prize in the case of rampant indecision. Entries sent outside the submission period will be deleted unread. Author retains all rights. Winners will be contacted by e-mail from scobba@aol.com for mailing/payment instructions.
Topic Schedule:October 1 - December 15, 2010
The Intersection of . . . Loss and Desire
The Intersection of . . . Food and Sex winner:
Bobby EversIn the afterglow she asked him "What do you want?" And he said "Eggs." and so she, kissing him, left the bed and walked with grace through the carpeted foyer, her makeshift office and into the kitchen. Her feet padded on the Ikea floor, catlike. He had bought her this floor tile. She would make him these eggs and he would love her. And she would be loved by him. She would keep herself beautiful for him. She would go to great pains for this. She poured olive oil in the skillet and began frying spinach and mushrooms she had on hand, bell peppers, onions. She sizzled them and she cooked them and turned them over with her spatula. His acknowledgement was audible. She was warmed adjacently. She broke eggs into a bowl and added milk and beat the eggs, turning them, wisking them. When the greens had cooked she separated them, the hot oil spitting. She'd never thought cooking for someone could be this sensual. She thought of him tasting, his breathing rhythms, satisfaction. She took responsibility. In the same pan, with the frier on, she, without thinking, dumped the egg very quickly to make omlette. The fluid was repelled by the heat, bounced out, sizzled and spat, and met her naked torso at a very high temperature. She contorted and screamed and fell to the Ikea tile floor, still holding the pan, where the hot egg and veggies crashed to the floor in a terrible sound. He came out concerned and held her and said "What happened!?" and she said "I burnt myself on the eggs," and he laughed and shooshed her and she was embarassed at her true lack of grace but he loved her all the more for it.
The Intersection of . . . Obligation and Passion winner:
Lindsay RoeThe old man walked in the rain. He walked in the rain and he tried to remember what it was like to be a boy walking in the rain. Mostly he thought it must be like falling into a tunnel and never quite coming out on the other side, just slipping forever through a surge of wetness and caramel apples and grass stains. Endless, exhilarating, smelling of ozone.
There were people behind him, calling to him. The rain ran down the backs of their necks and wound itself like twine from the points of their noses. It muddied their outlines and turned them a funny sea-turtle blue. A car suctioned past, pulling the old man's knees with it, sending him thump-thumping a little toward the side of the
highway. He watched the rain dance in the headlights as the car blew its horn. The noises—the horn, the shouting from the sea turtle people behind him—were rainy and wet like the mud under his bare toes. Squish squish squish, the music the earth makes when it sings in the shower.They wanted him back. He could tell that was what the strange muddied music meant. Some of them were waving their arms and sending little petals of water droplets blooming from around their elbows and the corners of their mouths. He should go back, he knew that. But he still didn't remember what it was like to be a boy walking in the rain.
So he took another step toward the highway while the rain fell on his face and the people yelled their meaningless music behind him. He smiled because the rain was cool on his face and he thought for a moment that being a boy must feel like this.
The Intersection of. . . Creation and Sorrow winner:
Jamie Hershing
Black and White ManEach time we fought (and we fought a lot towards the end) she would lock herself in the bedroom. I could hear her scribbling and sobbing inside, and it infuriated me more. Posterity would learn her side of events – I would be the imperfect man.
I broke the padlock on the diary after she finally left, and was shocked to find not words but drawings inside: Each page contained a feature; a hand, an eye, a lip – all so painstakingly sketched I wanted to cry.
My friends who have seen her since say she's happy now, with someone new, a black and white man with perfect features. He only exists in two dimensions though, so when he turns you lose sight of him for a second. But he always appears again, a mirror image of identical perfection.
