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in a matter of minutes. In my mind, I had mutated into the mythic warrior poet that had been my psychic predestination all along. This, I thought, must be the reason that alluva sudden, everybody seems to be staring back at me. “Shit,” I said out loud. “They know who I am.” I knew right then I had to get outta there. I made a beeline for the door marked EXIT, took the stairs up to the tippy-top of the parking garage. From here, I thought, I am able to plan my escape route. I looked out and saw the city burning, as I suspected, and I started methodically plotting my course. The sound of static interrupted my train of thought... A roaming security guard warned me not to resist, and also asked 19

Profile for Monofonus Press

Bad Jobs #1  

The first installment of William Z. Saunders’ “Bad Jobs” recollects being punk in the rural south and other bad jobs....With illustrations b...

Bad Jobs #1  

The first installment of William Z. Saunders’ “Bad Jobs” recollects being punk in the rural south and other bad jobs....With illustrations b...

Profile for monofonus