© Andrew Bowers and Requiem for the Damned, 2018.
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Category Archives: Angle of Attack
Chapter 6* “So, this lady in Montreal. Julianne was it? Was she the only one?” I knew the question was coming but it still made me feel my pulse in my scalp, and I started wordlessly opening and closing my … Continue reading
Chapter 5* With complete loss of hydraulic control and non-functional control surfaces, the only way I was able to keep the 747-jumbo airborne at all was by applying nuanced engine thrusts to pitch the nose up into a lurching climb … Continue reading
Chapter 4* I had known all along that my parents weren’t really my parents. Not only did I bear zero resemblance to either of them, they were both Viking white while I was perpetually bronzed, my skin the approximate hue … Continue reading
Chapter 3* My parents had been driving back from the city after one of my father’s post-traumatic stress disorder sessions at the VA hospital. This was in the days before PTSD had even been coined as a term of art … Continue reading
Chapter 2* “Ve’ll be zerrre soon, Kyaptain,” said my relentlessly young Uber driver in a thick Russian accent. He was blinking at me nervously in the rearview, face aglow in the dashboard lights, as if I was a cop who … Continue reading