Escape Pod Escape Artists Foundation

The Concept Shoppe: A Rocky Cornelius Consultancy

By Andrew Dana Hudson



“This place is trash, garbágio, blechalicious,” Rocky Cornelius said appreciatively. “All we gotta do is, as they say, sublevel the vibe.”



“Really? You think so?” The greengrocer, Franklyn, wrung his hands—still caked with black soil from showing her the beet rows in aisle five—a sure sign that Rocky’s negging, one of the most reliable techniques in her consultant toolbox, was working.



They stood in the canned goods section of Primal, soon to be Westwood’s newest and hippest boutique bodega slash survival goods retailer. The paper labels on the tins had been artfully patinated by some design school dropout, ripped and torn to leave just a slash of Roma tomato picture here, a glimpse of fava bean logo there. The shelves looked half-caved in, but were in fact quite secure, welded into place at zig-zag angles. Simulated California sun streamed, dappled, through an ivy-frosted, hole-in-the-roof-shaped skylight.



The idea of this ‘concept shoppe’ was to make shoppers feel like they were looting an abandoned store in a post-apocalyptic, collapseporn paradise. Rocky quite liked the idea. No one wanted to be a “consumer” these days. People—especially Californians, who had lately been through so much—wanted to think of themselves as “survivors,” disaster-hardened protagonists in a return-to-their-roots story of rebuilding and social rejuvenation. It’s just that, if they could afford one of the new quake-proof condos springing up in Westwood, they wanted to do so without having to worry about tetanus, botulism, scurvy, or gluten.

Author : Grace Chan Narrator : Isabel J. Kim Host : Tina Connolly Audio Producer : Summer Brooks “Nobody Ever Goes Home to Zhenzhu” originally appeared in Lightspeed Magazine (May 2022). Contains some harsh language. Nobody Ever Goes Home to Zhenzhu by Grace Chan I’d always known Calam would run. He had all the signs. […]

Alternate Cover: Pantone Sunset

By Marie Vibbert



Stacey reads a comic book.  It’s about a robot lady, but not like her.  This robot lady has exposed gears and metal rods in her arms and wears a metallic bikini as she solves crimes.  The colors are otherworldly.  Sometimes the red ink bleeds sideways or the blue shifts toward the bottom of the page. Stacey loves the feeling that every image is made of transparent layers.  She imagines soft films of yellow, red, and blue gently wafting down onto the black and white.



Stacey isn’t supposed to be reading the comic book.  Her existence is devoted to the proper display and peddling of women’s casual separates for the upscale consumer.  When she isn’t in the window posing, she is assisting customers or straightening stock–which means undoing the chaos the customers do to the shop.  They do a lot.  The comic book itself had been left by a customer, on a pedestal displaying the new winter sweaters, with a half-drunk coffee and some cheese doodles.

Author : Tim Chawaga Narrator : James Kaku Pierson Host : Mur Lafferty Audio Producer : Summer Brooks Escape Pod 938: Chug the Tea Leaves, Chuck the Ads is an Escape Pod original. Chug the Tea Leaves, Chuck the Ads by Tim Chawaga I wake up to a message and a certain intuition that my […]

Author : Shaenon K. Garrity Narrator : Nathaniel Lee Hosts : Valerie Valdes and Norm Sherman Audio Producers : Summer Brooks and Mat Weller Escape Pod 937: Punk Voyager (Flashback Friday) is an Escape Pod original. A copious amount of harsh language. Punk Voyager by Shaenon K. Garrity Punk Voyager was built by punks.  They […]

By Nora Schinnerl



(...Continued from Part 1)



Kite was still curled into a bundle of blankets in front of the stove when Setti woke. The old woman sniffed, torn between surprise and annoyance. She'd have figured him for a quitter, sneaking out before dawn to escape the work. That's what she'd have done when she was his age. Not like Setti was in any shape to chase after him. But he'd stayed and now she was stuck with him, just like she was stuck with her ghost. There was a thought to cheer her up in the morning.



“Ey, boy.”



The bundle of blankets stirred, then Kite woke with a start. The bruise on his face looked worse in the harsh morning light, his cheek all swollen and purple. From the way he winced, it wasn't the only one either. Setti dropped a bowl of oats on the table for him.



“About time you start working for your food.”