In the stories of Kayfabe, darkly comic worlds collide, putting obstinate and outrageous and always fragile characters into impossible situations. Saul Lemerond writes with gusto, in a voice all his own: unpretentious, smart, hilarious, and original. In Lemerond’s universe, rainbow factories sludge the lungs of child laborers, a cue ball sounds a siren’s call, and your mother might become your lover. Blink: it’s a snowy field. Blink again: it’s an Emerson-quoting dinosaur. Like the best work of cultural satirists Kurt Vonnegut and Chris Bachelder, these apocalyptic and surreal stories ultimately prefer hope to cynicism, laughter to tears.
The sky is full of rainbows. Shelly, a seven-year-old girl, sits next to her teddy bear on the couch. In another room, her brother is coughing. Outside, a building explodes. Shelly pays no attention to the sound or to the small bits of debris from the four-story insurance building falling past her window, and neither does her teddy bear. This isn’t entirely their fault: the couch they’re sitting on is facing away from the window, and the show they’re watching has shocked them, quite violently, into a rage trance.
The big screen shows a beautiful beach of white sand. The sun is shining, techno music is playing, and small waves roll up on the shore as young people dance.
"This is abhorrent." Shelly's head wobbles in horror. More than anything, she hopes her eyes might be lying to her.
"Disgusting," agrees Teddy the teddy bear, scratching his furry chin with a furry paw.
Saul Lemerond was born and raised in Green Bay, Wisconsin. He currently lives in Mount Pleasant, Michigan. His work has appeared in Dunesteef, Temenos, The Drabblecast, and various other journals. He hopes someday to move south because his hands get cold in winter.