As the forty-eight pages breeze by, it occurs to me how easily one allows the criminal or amoral mind to slip in and occupy our thoughts. Why it seems quite natural should be subject to Darwinian discussion elsewhere. However in this particular case, the ease is developed solely by the writer. An ease comparable to a martial artist as he employs a sharp, effective response that leaves you on your keister.
Short pieces of fiction flood the internet and I usually know from the first page whether to continue or not. Lucius the Club has an early and twisted hook that begs further reading, if only to satisfy the origin of the Oedipal and Freudian implications.
A mother, and minor film actress, actually shows her nearly adult son hardcore pictures of herself having sex with two men that were mailed to her with an intent to blackmail. If that one sentence is not enough to pique your curiosity for forty-eight pages, the ease at which the narrator, the Lucius of the title, accepts this odd reality certainly should.
For me, it was enough to pull me all the way through to an ending that short fiction enthusiasts truly crave: satisfaction.
Strongly Recommended.