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Kate folk out there5/25/2023 ![]() ![]() Kate Folk’s first collection of stories, Out There, shuttles down the same side streets, as at home in the weird and potentially prophetic as any episode of Black Mirror. One in which the guests laugh too loudly, though some quietly weep, and the courses served are made of sand set in a cracked hourglass. ![]() No matter the stacks of philosophy, religion, and history I might feast upon in future, there would always be a dim dinner party just this side of the light that would only allow me to watch, never to join. Having been met at the departure terminal of the fantastic some years earlier by Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles, I quickly discovered that Rod Serling’s “land of both shadow and substance” would be the friendly, if not quite harmless, spirit sitting next to me during continued flights of fancy, poking me in the ribs and assuring me, as it sloshed its bourbon in a plastic glass, that no matter how wise I may become life would always reserve for itself the privilege of mystery. When I was a liminal fifteen in Reagan’s dire 1980s, my desperately-needed imaginative transport took the form of cable reruns of The Twilight Zone. ![]()
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