Story Excerpt Sunday: from The Pure Cold Light by Gregory Frost

The Pure Cold Light

by Gregory Frost

Heffernan would never appreciate that magnetism was what killed him.

The alarm klaxon honked twice in the tiny lunar shack, so loud that he fumbled his coffee cup and seared a stripe across his thighs. He hopped to his feet, shouting,“Son of a bitch!” and prying the wet pant legs away from his skin. He had been absorbed till then in a movie on the monitor—a Betty Davis film called Jezebel—but shut it off, cut the overheads, and pressed his face against the co...