The fine folks at the lit journal BULL published my story “Cedar” about an aging Yakuza enforcer coming to terms with his twilight years (and his set of prosthetic pinkies):
He opened the lid slowly. From inside, he removed the silk handkerchief to reveal three silicone prosthetic pinkies. With his right hand—his good hand—he rolled up his left shirtsleeve and regarded the tone of his skin, holding the first pinkie to his hand, then wrist, deciding it was too pale (he had spent more time in sunny Naha that winter than originally planned).
The second pinkie was dark, yet still not dark enough, and the third wasn’t right at all—a leftover from the very first set he received, almost archaic now that he thought of it (and very uncomfortable). No, he would have to use the second, even though it didn’t quite match. What other choice did he have? He took the second prosthetic and placed it on the first joint where his pinky now ended. The suction would keep it on through most tasks, even showering, but still…it seemed to glow against his dark skin. A beacon signifying it did not belong.
Geeked that BULL‘s Christopher Wolford and Jared Yates Sexton enjoyed the story, and honored to be a part of what they do.