About the Author Misha Firer was born in 1979 in Russia but spent a sizable part of his life in Israel, Western Europe and the United States. His short stories can be found in BIG News, Nuvein, Word Riot, Paumanok Review, Vestal Review and elsewhere. He has one previous story published in Nuvein: Autumn of a Playboy.

The desert is a sea of solid particles; it requires a different sort of creature to dwell on its undulating terrain. Man must be the least suited for the purpose.

Vlad walked three days and three nights. His water ran out a few hours earlier. No fairy tale oasis would emerge in the distance, not even a mirage would tease his mind with possibility of salvation.

Vlad knew he was lost for good. In the desert this could mean only one thing.

It was getting dark; the weather was changing drastically, coolness spread through the air and over the shifting ground. Vlad collapsed on the sand, rolled himself in white canvas and prepared for sleep. Not to awaken would be a deliverance, swift and humane. But, Vlad had lived long enough to understand what kind of world he was born into without his consent. He didn't expect soft painless deliverance from the chaos of existence.

Swiftly Vlad found himself in a dream.

Asking for help from God soon proved to be futile. His fate seemed to be pre-decided, written in the book of Death. He was forsaken by God. Vlad’s body would perish, his mind would be annihilated, his spirit would depart.

I don’t want to die yet, Vlad cried out.

And why is it so? was the immediate answer.

Who is speaking to me? Vlad flared up.

Demigod, a demon of darkness, is speaking to you.

Can you help me Demigod? Can you save me? Vlad screamed in agony.

And why do you think I’m here talking to you, Vlad-son?

To take my spirit away, is that why you are here?

The demon laughed raucously, dunes shifted and were leveled by the booming omnipotent voice of Demigod.

I will save your life, but for that you must do a little favor for me, Demigod announced.

I will do anything you ask, Vlad cried out.

He feared death so deeply because he was convinced that with the decomposition of all the atoms in his body, his spirit would be done away with. With the termination of heart beat the ultimate end would come, and there would be no Vlad anymore. That belief held him in a permanent state of uncontrolled fear that he couldn’t fathom or conquer.

Demigod read Vlad’s mind as easily as the book of nature, nature that was profoundly desolate in this realm.

I promise I will do everything you ask of me, Vlad exclaimed.

My end of the bargain is a gift of life to you. As for yours, Demigod hovered over the splayed out body of Vlad, steamed down inside of it, penetrated his ear and whispered tentatively so every word would be heard and comprehended.

Do you see a woman standing right beside you?

Without opening his eyes, Vlad glanced ahead and saw a slim naked woman, whose shining skin merged her presence into the moonlit darkness, lending a further ephemeral quality to the dream. She was a dream within a dream. Vlad knew he was there to live this virtual moment to its fullest.

Your favor to me is to make love to this woman. When you come, life will be given back to you, a long and fulfilling one.

Vlad shed his clothes and approached the naked girl. Without saying a word they embraced and merged in a passionate kiss. Vlad heard the echoing whisper of Demigod, I’m resurrecting you one push at a time, you’d better do your work well, for your life is at stake.

The moment Vlad relieved his desire the woman vanished into the thin air of the breaking morning.

Vlad inhaled the last tinges of cool air that was quickly being evaporated by the dawning heat.

He rose to his feet, content with his destiny. If to die among the shifting dunes was his fate, then he would succumb bravely and fearlessly.

Vlad strained his eyes to see what lay ahead of him, clearly expecting to see only sand merging with a distant horizon. Contrary to his expectations, he saw a line of high-rises.

There was a city.


Wandering through the streets of this strange city, where houses were glass and concrete and roads were smooth, Vlad was bewildered and lost. Cars barreled by. Pedestrians with glassy looks hurried on mysterious errands. The dynamics of this strange city were incomprehensible.

On an impulse, Vlad wobbled through the revolving doors and stepped into a towering building into a vestibule full of baggage and noise. There was an unoccupied armchair in the corner. Vlad sank into its comfort and closed his eyes, trying to drive the insane images from his mind.

"Excuse me, sir," a feminine voice made itself heard. Vlad opened his eyes and jumped up in awe.

"You’re a nervous guy," the woman uttered flirtatiously. "In need of stress relief."

Vlad understood what she was saying, but was at a loss for words.

"I can help you relieve your tension," the woman offered.

Vlad nodded, unable to come up with an adequate reaction, feeling so out of place.

"Follow me," the woman beckoned.

She turned away and walked towards the elevator swaying her hips. This motion put Vlad into a trance; obediently he followed wherever she was leading him.

The elevator doors opened and closed, supersonic speed delivered them to the top floor.

The woman walked through the only door in a long corridor lit by fluorescent sconces.

The view from the room was sweeping; an entire city of geometrical forms spread before their eyes. Artificially illuminated skies capped the irrational urban morass.

"Business first," the gorgeous woman said dully.

Intuitively Vlad scooped his hand into his pocket. He felt a rolled up crumpled piece of paper. He brought it out into the light and showed it to the woman.

"A hundred dollars. That’s all you got?" The woman sounded frustrated.

Vlad nodded.

"If you don’t wanna talk to me, that’s fine. Money talks. Even a hundred dollar bill talks. Works for me." She sighed and switched to pleasure mode.



Gaetan Dugas, later christened by scientists and doctors alike as "HIV Patient Zero," followed Vlad to a clandestine brothel on the top floor of the Marriott Hotel.

"Toronto is beautiful today. No smog in the air," he said matter-of-factly while getting dressed.

"I don’t care about smog," the prostitute said, "I care about my money."

"Ok then, take care," Gaetan said, "of whatever you care about."

The prostitute sniffed contemptuously, zipping her mini-skirt.



Gaetan Dugas then copulated with Lucy Minturn. Lucy Minturn copulated with Chris Vickrey. Chris Vickrey copulated with Ilona Harone. Ilona Harone copulated with Michael Sinisi. Michael Sinisi copulated with Barbara Gallant. Barbara Gallant copulated with Alex Shadoff. Alex Shadoff copulated with Tatyana Datskaya. Tatyana Datskaya copulated with Steve Standard. Steve Standard copulated with Sofa Bass. Sofa Bass copulated with Isabelle Grant. Isabelle Grant copulated with David Stern. David Stern copulated with Maria Zito. Maria Zito copulated with Gonzalo Garcia. Gonzalo Garcia copulated with Susan McCarty. Susan McCarty copulated with Morris Tabush. Morris Tabush copulated with Limor Zinav. Limor Zinav copulated with Nick Porochnia. Nick Porochnia copulated with Siu Wa Lee. Siu Wa Lee copulated with Ching Chu Tam. Ching Chu Tam copulated with Kam Cheung. Kam Cheung copulated with Abraham Isaac Mordecai. Abraham Isaac Mordecai copulated with Sarah Cohen. Sara Cohen copulated with Joseph Cohen. Joseph Cohen copulated with Carmen Gellineau. Carmen Gellineau copulated with Nafa Meme. Nafa Meme copulated with Venkata Marella. Venkata Marella copulated with Rabbi Olshin. Rabbi Olshin copulated with Deborah Williams. Deborah Williams copulated with Anthony Galegemi. Anthony Galgemi copulated with Erica Nelson. Erica Nelson copulated with Chusack Siriprasertvit. Chusack Siriprasertvit copulated with Anna Dziadel. Anna Dziadel copulated with John Graham. John Graham copulated with Julia Pavlova. Julia Pavlova copulated with Mikhail Tutmekuv. Mikhail Tutmekuv copulated with Laura Palmer. Laura Palmer copulated with John Smith. John Smith copulated with Ronald Pohudakirovski . . .