Want to read something fun and bizarre? Head over to samizdada and read “Mary Davidson’s Blue Hand’ by Gary Cadwallader. Here’s an excerpt:

There are voices and dogs barking in the distance. The pale blue hand of Mary Davidson does not hear. It is, after all, only a hand, disembodied and rather petite. Still, the fingers are curled as if they listen.

And that is all the sheriff’s men find. A hand. They don’t find Mary Davidson, but she is identified by her weeping husband who clutches her wedding ring to his lips as if the ring were more important than her flesh. Perhaps it is. The ring is something he can keep, wear, put upon a mantle, admire in the night, tuck under his pillow. And he can more readily accept its symbolism then he can accept her rotting tissue.

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