Issue six of Sybil’s Garage from Senses Five Press is fun. Few journals and magazines I’ve read could be described with the “F” word, and probably fewer still aspire to it at all. Liberally illustrated, this issue is crowded with 16 works of fiction, an interview with Paul Tremblay, and 13 poems. Not only that, there is a kind of meta-story woven through the pages in the form of a mysterious series of notes from a time traveler. Yet another feature of the issue is a note preceding each piece on what song (or even collection of sounds) should accompany the reading. Combine that with more bells and whistles in the design, and you have an issue eager to please. Reading it is like wandering into a house party where you not only mingle with the guests, you peruse the décor and absorb the mix of tunes emanating from the stereo.

“Come the Cold” by Eric Del Carlo convincingly pits the “olds” (us people) against the “colds,” children born without emotion, only a kind of passive logical mind—like Spock on Quaaludes. The narrator falls for a sexy “cold,” and after following the woman, he propositions her.  The answer she gives reveals one surprising result of a purely logical choice: “colds” have no problem having sex for money. It’s simply an economic exchange. In the end, I appreciated that the “colds” are more metaphor than psychological speculation.

Speaking of speculation, “Downdraft” by Simon Petrie offers what I’d call speculative anatomy, perhaps aimed at livestock veterinarians excited by “armored glands,” “recessed sphincters,” and herniated “propellant bladders.” The story details an encounter between a hunter and his prey. We don’t spend too much time in this world—the story is too brief—but it is deeply imagined and obviously backed with a great deal of careful research. I would have needed a longer work, however, to become engaged.

“Élan Vital” by K. Tempest Bradford posits a world where technology exists that keeps people indefinitely alive, if mostly in stasis. A mother who opted for this half-alive-half-dead state argues with her daughter over the emotional and moral implications of the choice. I enjoyed the additional complication that the title refers to, but I would have preferred an ending that didn’t come so easily. In “Machine Washable” by Keffy R.M. Kehrli, another mother and daughter struggle with the issue of life after death—a la George Romero. The piece takes the form of a series of voice mails and email messages between the two characters. If you still can’t get enough of zombies, this short, goofy piece is for you.

The Seventies are back in Paul Jessup’s “Heaven’s Fire,” with characters named Jazz and Bear,  a ship called the Goodbye Girl (Is Richard Dreyfus flying it?) and even a space station named after Frank Zappa. Jazz, Bear and their compatriots are revolutionaries, fighting against the robot “molts.” “Heaven’s Fire” refers to a commune to which the narrator’s love interest longs to escape. The story feels like Dead Heads versus Skynet, and I was left thinking, “So what?”

In “Day of the Mayfly” by Autumn Canter, a whole town suffers under a strange curse. Each year,  a girl is born straight from the ground, and during her one day to live, a mob made up of every male in town, possessed by lust, comes after her. She must pick one male for intercourse or face being raped and beaten. This particular year, the Mayfly Girl wants to fight back. “Day of the Mayfly” is relentlessly restrained, almost miserly, in providing back story to explain this set-up. As bold as the story’s premise is, I found that this oblique approach got in the way of the plot. Vylar Kaftan’s “Fulgurite” also puts sex center-stage in a story about a girl preparing to lose her virginity.  Unfortunately, the author, instead of diving for the right psychosexual symbolism, settles for the close at hand, scooping up the easiest if not downright silliest of images.

Somewhat experimental in form, “Drinking Black Coffee at the Jasper Grey Café” by Stephanie Campisi begins strongly and promises to describe an increasingly mysterious and disturbing coffeehouse, but doesn’t quite deliver by the end. I was also disappointed by the ending of “The Drink of Fine Gentlemen Everywhere” by the romantically-named Genevieve Valentine, although I otherwise enjoyed the story. In an appropriately claustrophobic and sepia-toned atmosphere, an abused woman hosts a party made up of gentlemen ghosts.

Bringing a community together in cooperation, especially with the goal of becoming more self-sufficient, isn’t as admirable as you would expect in “Eating Ritual” by Toiya Kristen Finley.  In this mostly successful story, a neighborhood maintains its own energy source by sacrificing people in a kind of recycling machine. Unlike the ritual sacrifice in Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery,” no one is chosen at random. They play basketball, and the worst player goes. No one seems to question this arrangement except main-character Deidra, especially when it comes to the way her father plays the game.

One of the most stylistically experimental stories of the issue is “I am Enkidu, His Wild Brother” by James B. Pepe.  This truly strange, psychedelic piece, which requires more familiarity with the Epic of Gilgamesh than I have, stands out for its feverish prose. Another experimental story, “Not the West Wind” by Becca De La Rosa, tells the story of a couple who find a lost young girl and take her into their home.  With beautiful and surreal imagery, we get glimpses of the woman’s life and what this would-be adopted daughter means to her. To a lesser extent, “The Raincaller”  by Jason Heller experiments as well, but in the strong voice of a street urchin struggling to live in a ruined future. Unfortunately, I found the story ended prematurely, just as I was getting interested.

More bad news about the future appears in the next story “An Old Man Went Fishing on the Sea of Red” by Don Norum. With echoes of Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea, a stubborn fisherman takes one last voyage in an act that is part protest part surrender.  He does so despite the warnings to stay away from the oceans, which are about to be transformed in an effort to stop the ongoing disruption of Earth’s climate. Clunky title aside, it’s a solid, melancholy story which ends on the promise of future renewal.  We find melancholy again, but with more of a happy ending, in Sean Markey’s “Waiting for the Green Woman.” The story begins with a great first line: “My daughter is a tree in the desert.” The Green Woman is the mother of the tree-girl, and the narrator is her broken-hearted father, living in longing and fear of his one-time lover. Finally, there’s “Mother’s Garden.” In confident prose, Rumjhum Biswas tells the story of a woman looking back on the fertile, perhaps supernaturally fertile, garden that fed her family.  Rich descriptions and convincing characterization make this piece one of the overall strongest stories.

In an interview once, Ray Bradbury remarked that he saw parties as a waste of time, except for the chance to meet a kindred spirit.  At the Sybil’s Garage Issue 6 party, you may not like every story you meet, but it’s worth going for the chance to connect with something unique.