I love the Molotov Cocktail – it’s my fav e-zine, full as it is of dark speculative fiction with 50s B movie illustrations and wise-cracking razor-smart asides from its editors. On its submissions page they say, “The Molotov Cocktail is interested in volatile flash fiction, the kind of prose you cook up in a bathtub and handle with rubber gloves.” Well, this incandescent ugly-beautiful story that won their Flash Apocalypse comp in 2020 is exactly that. Exquisite, horrifying, lyrical, transcendental. How I wish, wish, wish I’d written it.

First published at Molotov Cocktail, 2020, and available to read here