new zine (2021/10/15)



redaction day (2021/10/01)

redaction day



pt. i

pt. ii



gogol (2021/08/27)






ANTIGONE + MAUDE #3 (2021/06/30)



by Stanley Lieber


Pink office, teal chairs. His metal shades drawn tight like the backdrop of Prince’s 1999 stage set. Police Lt. Martin Castillo stood rigid in front of his desk and stared, ostensibly at the door in front of him.

It didn’t budge.


Anyway, Ororo was probably right. Esmé trusted in the older thief’s experience. She didn’t need to be the best there was at what she did, herself, she just wanted the stuff. Shortest path between two points, and all that.

Esmé usually got what she wanted.

"We can’t come back here for a while," Ororo said.

"Sure," Esmé agreed.

Now, there would be no point.


The mall was boring. Who knew why Maude never complained. Antigone traced the prompts around the food court, getting her steps in. At the end of the food court was the B. Dalton’s. She wished that more of its stock had been left in place when the mall finally closed down. The place was a mystery.

Bill "Pops" Fomo would probably laugh. "That place went out of business before you were born," he would probably say. Which was true.

"Oh yeah? Then why’s the store front still there, then?"

Well, Dad didn’t know everything.

On, past the B. Dalton’s, beckoned the Radio Shack.

There were computers in there.


He could lift. Whatever the trouble, he didn’t have to deal with any of it while he was in here. Alone. Sweating.

He could lift.

Granit came to the mall even though the mall had been closed for going on ten years. Gym equipment still worked. And no one to harass him about his weight or his complexion, which in both cases lent him the appearance of a giant block of, well, granite.

The nickname given to him in grade three (1987) had been misspelled, and he kept it precisely on those grounds. A forty-two year old man, taking ownership of his own name represented one of his few personal victories.

He was strong as fuck.

He could lift.


All together now, she had gathered them thusly.


new comic (2021/06/18)

SONIC v2 #1

11" x 17" (2017) (2021/06/11)

11" x 17" (2017)

ANTIGONE + MAUDE #2 (2021/03/27)



by Stanley Lieber


There wouldn’t be room in her bag. It was too full. Esmé tried several different configurations before giving up and stuffing the thing into her jacket pocket. Nobody was paying attention, anyway. She probably could have just carried it out of the store. Fine, then.


"Dad’s gonna be gone for two days," Antigone said.

"Three, but who’s counting?" Maude was finishing up the dishes, her cardigan sleeves pushed way up over her elbows, poofed out comically just below her shoulders. "He’ll probably sleep for three more after he gets back."

"Then why are we working so hard, sis?"

"You have a point," Maude said, and turned off the faucet.


Bill couldn’t get the fucking screws unscrewed. His laptop was ruined. The other guys at work weren’t paying attention, thank Christ, but he was starting to sweat. He took a swig of Pepsi, some of it spilled on the table. Tried again.

Nope, this screw was definitely stripped.

Not to put too fine a point on it but presently the alarm sounded. Another run. Bill wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and laid his screwdriver down on the table.

Nobody better touch this while I’m gone, he said to himself.


Esmé was behaving recklessly. Two years younger, she hadn’t yet developed the patience Ororo worked so hard to maintain. She was impulsive, her judgement lacking. So much like Ororo herself in her younger days.

Placed her hand softly on Esmé’s shoulder. Soft, but firm.

It was time to leave.


Yeah, her store had great light. Maude liked to stretch out on one of the checkout counters and gaze aimlessly into the translucent dust as it danced gayly in the wan artificial light. Her Chuck Taylors hung over the edge of the counter, occasionally kicking against a small stand of faux leather wallets. She wasn’t overly concerned about knocking over the stand.

She suddenly noticed a man, tall, with long brown hair, standing over near a rack of dress slacks, examining the price tag on a polyester number that obviously wasn’t going to fit him.

This mall had been closed for years. How in the Hell did he get in here?


ANTIGONE + MAUDE #1 (2021/03/02)



by Stanley Lieber


"I don’t care," she said. The bridge was still burning. Maude flipped the tape over while Antigone strained through the windshield to see their father, still conferring with his coworkers. He was taller than the other firefighters. "He’s never going to notice." Antigone popped the glove compartment and extracted four double-a batteries for their knock-off Walkman. They’d been sitting there for three hours. Waiting for him to finish.


Bill just wanted to get paid. The township honored invoices for every run he showed up for, whether or not he bothered to suit up, and they paid a bonus if a run exceeded four hours. Bridge across the creek was still on fire, so it was fair he was trying to milk this one for all it was worth. Stood up on his tip-toes to check on the girls back in the car. They seemed all right. He wondered what they were talking about.


The hand on his shoulder. The hand removed. We’ll talk about that later.


Some corny old song, slowed down. Pink and teal. Camera pans from the entrance across potted plastic palms and fountains, introduction to a derelict mall. But the girls were home. Antigone’s room in the hollowed-out shell of a pretzel shop. Maude with a whole Sears men’s department to herself. Their father occupied the administrative offices of the mall itself, random stacks of his stuff piled on top of random stacks of mall junk. The skylights were leaking, and on a cold day you had to watch out for puddles of water in front of the Radio Shack. The electricity inexplicably still on.

This was fine.