The phone was dissolving into his palm. Not painfully. It simply became ever more difficult for Quibble to slip his phone into his pocket, release it on a counter. Intriguing at first, but not for long. He had places to call, items to look up, purchases to make, trivia to gorge upon. Then, he could not pull his hand from the device. It would not slide into his pocket, drop onto a table or chair. His hand and the phone had become one. Rather than being horrified, he found this arrangement easier. And it was thrilling to be a hybrid.

Ken Poyner’s

four collections of flash fiction and four of speculative poetry are available from most web booksellers. He was an information warrior for thirty-three years, and now supports full-time his wife’s powerlifting. Recent work has appeared in Analog, Café Irreal, Rune Bear, and Tiny Molecules.

Author’s website: https://kpoyner.com/