"The Von Neumann Wives"

Dear Story Entitled “The Von Neumann Wives,”

Thanks for appearing to me last night. That was very nice of you. I like it when you guys show up. Really. I just wish there could have been some notice, first. Otherwise I would have known to get some other things done, beforehand. Like some more Foresters, or a bit more research for my Fullmetal Alchemist-meets-cognitive narratology paper. Or, you know, some baking to fuel said pursuits. Some espresso-infused brownies perhaps. Because let’s face it, I shouldn’t be staying up until five am playing with you all, anymore.



(Here’s a taste.)

Amy nodded again. Her little fingers knotted inside his shirt. “Mom’s mom left her in the dump,” she whispered, as though it were a terrible secret between the two of them. “She left her with all the broken cars and old machines.”

“That’s right,” Jack said. He stroked Amy’s hair. “But that’s not ever going to happen to you.”

“Mom had to eat all that metal,” Amy said. “Mom ate hubcaps and stuff so she could get stronger.”

He smiled. “Is that what she told you?”

“Uh huh,” Amy said. “But it’s our secret, so shh.”

Scroll to Top