Brian Evenson’s fiction maps the forbidden territories of genre, innovation, transgression, and literature. With one foot in the avant-garde and the other in the pulp tradition, Evenson’s stark vision is never comfortable, always provocative, and, more often than one might think, darkly amusing.
The new novella “Flume” is a workplace comedy, of sorts. Is Flume a scientific foundation, a man, or a pair of shoes poking out from behind a curtain? Is Davies (or is it Davis?) up for a promotion,...


