mark a rayner: New Fiction: Empty Space Times Two

This piece is probably the most straight-up sentimental thing I’ve ever written, but I’m quite chuffed to join the ranks of the writers who have been published by The Saturday Evening Post. (That includes, you guessed it, my literary hero, Kurt Vonnegut.) In case you’re wondering, it’s NOT autobiographical, though I did take a typing ...

mark a rayner: Doug the neurotic invents a corollary on his daily commute

Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m freaking out. I ate at Wendy’s last night, and then I’m reading the paper today — yeah, like I do everyday on the bus — and so I’m reading the paper, and what do I see? Bird Flu! There was another breakout of bird flu in a freakin’ chicken farm ...

mark a rayner | scribblings, squibs & sundry monkey joys: La dolce vita

It wasn’t always so easy. There used to be an anger in him. An emptiness that nothing could fill … nothing material anyway. He fell through time and space, and into a kind of dream. And it seemed as though … Continue reading →