Grendel by Steven Gullion art by Robinson Accola Grendel found some slacks he liked at Kohl's, so he bought a half dozen pair. All pastels—robin's egg blue, butter yellow, blush pink, etc. They looked good with a simple mock-T and the woven-topped loafers he'd picked up at a twofer sale at DSW. This became his uniform that summer, and he wore it everywhere: attending an art installation in the park, terrorizing villagers, cruising the lake on his Ski-Doo. He was mulching the roses one day, in slacks that were a particularly bloodless shade of pistachio, when a mole stuck its head out of the ground. He'd had a lot of trouble with moles and their tunnels, so when this one showed itself Grendel snatched it up between his thumb and forefinger with a zesty "Hell, yeah!" The mole looked like a fetus, and he thought about eating it. Blind little booger, screwing up his lawn. That made him think of the Saxons, other interlopers, and how their limbs had tasted in the middle of the night. Sometimes, when he allowed himself to be melancholy, he would wonder how life might have turned out had he been friendlier, more outgoing, instead of slaughtering everyone he met. But, at the end of the day, he preferred solitude. He was a non-joiner. That's just the way he was. He carried the mole inside and found an empty Easter basket, still full of artificial grass and the empty halves of plastic eggs. He put the mole in the basket and sat down at the breakfast table with a cup of decaf. He watched the mole sniff around in the basket, making a nest in the plastic shreds. He sipped the coffee and slipped his loafers off. He rubbed one foot against another. He wished he had X-ray vision, so he could look deep inside the mole and see its organs. Scan its tiny soul for lumps. All content in SmokeLong Quarterly copyright 2003-2010 by its authors.
	Steven Gullion's other fiction has appeared in Night Train, The Adirondack Review, The Barcelona Review, previous issues of Smokelong, and other fine publications. He claims to be working on a novel about an armadillo. Read the interview. Robinson Accola creates artwork for SmokeLong Quarterly as needed.
	Issue Twenty-Six (September 28, 2009): The Teaching Assistant and the Math Professor by Shaindel Beers «» Ask for This by Myfanwy Collins «» Arrows by Lydia Copeland «» Pregnant With Peanut Butter by Michael Czyzniejewski «» How to Disappear Completely by Nadine Darling «» The Guitarist by Will Donnelly «» Prague by Kathy Fish «» Record Albums by Sherrie Flick «» Cooped by Alyson Foster «» Eye by Foust «» Grendel by Steven Gullion «» First Husband by Tiff Holland «» They Marched Into Fields by Jamie Iredell «» Port of Spain by Beverly A. Jackson «» Nobody Like You by Jeff Landon «» Little Girls by Tara Laskowski «» Office at Night by Pamela Painter «» So Long by Ellen Parker «» Quiet Things by Lauren M. Spencer «» My Girlfriend Leaves the Atmosphere by Angi Becker Stevens «» In Julie's Place by S. A. Tranter «» Blue-Suited Henchman, Kicked Into Shark Tank by Kevin Wilson «» 2 / 8 by Joseph Young «» Interviews: Shaindel Beers «» Myfanwy Collins «» Lydia Copeland «» Michael Czyzniejewski «» Nadine Darling «» Will Donnelly «» Kathy Fish «» Sherrie Flick «» Alyson Foster «» Foust «» Steven Gullion «» Tiff Holland «» Jamie Iredell «» Beverly A. Jackson «» Jeff Landon «» Tara Laskowski «» Pamela Painter «» Ellen Parker «» Lauren M. Spencer «» Angi Becker Stevens «» S. A. Tranter «» Joseph Young «» Cover Art "Birds of Paradise" by Marty D. Ison «» Letter From the Editor