Jesus and Red Lingerie  by Lori-Ann Grim   I woke with Jesus yes that Jesus sitting on my bed, reading this months’ issue of Cosmo. At first I didn’t know what to do; I was in a red teddy, lacy and tasteful yes, but this was Him. I quickly pulled the sheets up to my neck and cleared my throat. Was he aware I was awake? Stupid question I suddenly thought; he knows everything. Even covered I felt so very naked.   He spoke. No, his lips did not move as he turned to face me but I heard him. Yes, I rubbed my eyes, making sure they were seeing and not seeing what I was hearing. The magazine is a joke he told me. None of those tips for a better sex life work. It’s devotion really and I don’t see them talking about anything but orgasms. I stared, mouth open. Did he just say orgasms?   I wondered why he was here. Was it my time to go? No, he told me thought neither had I spoken. I’m just visiting. Making the rounds. It’s what a good son does for his Father. Oh.    I mean what else could I say. Obviously He was here for a reason but I only had my red nightie on so I kind of wished He’d go away.   I can’t go away he told me. It’s not time. There is work to be done. Do you want to get dressed. My cheeks flushed. I looked away from his piercing blue eyes. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want this. No one wants this I heard him say. No one expects it. I have to listen to my dad. You can’t get there from here.   Later minutes hours days I do not know I awoke on the floor wrapped in the softest white robe against my bare skin. I never did find my red teddy.   **   The Last Faerie  by John Irvine   greasy fingers of candlelight dribble deliquescent fat onto naked branches of moribund trees and a pustulous sun irradiates the sluggish trickle of a river with a sickly rainbow sheen   she lies curled inert inside a desiccated leaf rotating slowly in a minimal current iridescent wings disintegrating into prismatic dust her music silent as the last child finally   disbelieves...