Fiction Collective Two is an author-run, not-for-profit publisher of artistically adventurous, non-traditional fiction.

Former Virgin

Former Virgin
by Cris Mazza

Price: $11.95


In this collection of stories, critically acclaimed writer Cris Mazza shines a kleig light on the dark underside of relationships in a disturbing look at the ambiguous nature of our own desires. From women who foster their own abusive relationships, to failed suicide attempts, to furtive -- and horribly violent -- encounters in steamy basements, Mazza's stories cut to the heart of doomed human relationships, landing squarely in the murky territory between desire and despair, between freedom and loss of control.

"Hardly romantic, but often amusing, Mazza is one cold comedian." —Kirkus Reviews

"Riveting stories, full of exquisite details and unique perceptions of very real human situations.  Impossible to put down!!." —Deborah McKay, author of Eve's Longing

"Literary sitcoms from hell...Ms. Mazza is a subversive, anarchistic writer and hardly forgettable." —The Wall Street Journal


Dog & Girlfriend

She is trained to stay off the bed.  Somehow she understands this rule to mean only her back end.  She's perfectly capable of keeping her little feet on the floor and taking a nap with the rest of her body on the bed.  She also uses this position, when I'm in bed, to ask for things.  So she gets up there, puts her head on the blankets, two silly feet still on the floor, and says she wants to die.  She thinks she's pregnant again.

But I'm hardly in a position to respond.  She didn't say I'm ready to die.  She's just mad, so I'm letting her cool off which proves she didn't mean it.  I'm still busy after being tubed.

Familiar position.  Isn't it?  How much other trouble will it cause?  He would only touch me with his cock.  He wouldn't mind getting it dirty.  I never had that talk with my mother about freashness.  I scratch down there in my sleep.  It takes a long time, but I shave the hole shebang, nose to toes.

What if I'd told my girlfriend it was her father?  My girlfriend might've said, What do you think you're doing, trying to take my mother's place so then you can say come back to the womb?  Clever girlfriend.

I'm treating myself for yeast infection.  Staying inert on the bed long after ejaculating the medication.

How'd you get the man, she wanted to know.  Dressed like a female impersonator, let him get tanked, then said my sex change operation was in progress, wasn't complete, getting a hairy chest, but no cock yet.

I finally get out of bed, take the leash off the hook by the back door and my dog says she's ready to chase squirrels.  Maybe she forgot what she told me while I was on my back.  Dogs don't remember, unless the incident in question is accompanied by a traumatic occurence or great reward, putting into her memory:  repeat this, or: don't.  Which I don't think happened.  Sure, the medicine is white like semen, but when I say, you want puppies?  she looks into the trees shouting for the squirrels to come down and face off.

She's wrong, I wouldn't say come back to the womb, even if I was sleeping with someone who could've been her father might make me somehow her mother.  If she hadn't left, I'd say, I don't want you in my womb, I don't want anyone in my womb.  But you let him go part way in, my dog says, that's more than I did.  She's stiill proud of that.  She refused the stud and had to be artificially inseminated.