The Owner feels he has lost the handle on his mall pet store. It seemed a good idea three years ago: puppies, kittens, exotic birds, reptiles, and fish. And he thinks he remembers good times, good business, a general feeling of prosperity in the store. Each morning now, though, he finds the place is haunted, the employees jittery, he himself completely on edge, baffled, afraid. The customers sense it too and stay away. The puppies and kittens are not purchased; they grow up in the plastic cages, and he has to ship them to pounds and experimenters. Almost every morning, too, he finds something has died or been injured.The chimpanzee grows more sullen by the day. They’ve turned his cage to face away from the doorway because he winces at the approach of mall strollers. They’ve hung a full-sized poster of a different, smiling chimp so that people will know he is there.Sometimes, looking in at the beast, the Owner wonders if he ought to just shoot it. He thinks absurd thoughts: he ought to come in here and shoot every living thing and be done with it. But he doesn’t have a gun. Or the guts.


I just ordered my copy from independent press Soft Skull.