Bruce Boston THE FANTASY HORRORS OF THE EVERYDAY   In some fantastic adventure story inhabited by wizards and dragons, rife with magic and daring quests, where morality is clearly chiseled as the New Century Linotype that  inks the fine vellum of the page,  it suddenly all goes roughly astray. A fog uncurls across the landscape, obscuring castles and candelabra, tainting both the heroic sacrifices and fiendish deeds you once found  so captivating in the pure black and white surety of their display. The maiden fair is not so chaste as she would wish you to believe. The prince is puffed with his glory and compulsive about his swordplay. The crimes of the stepfather king may prove less than vile once you  know of the beatings and constant abuse he suffered as a mere child. Actuality has bled onto the page, corrupting a nearly perfect world where you could shun the humdrum complexities that fill your day, leaving you little to do but slam  the book shut and hurl it away. Yet as you turn back to take up existence and the tasks you face,   you discover reality has not only  fled to the page but is now passe. You house has changed to a castle keep with every stone in place, with a mortar so hard no battering ram can dislodge its unyielding clay. Your world has assumed the clarity  you thought your book would convey, and your drug-crazed teenage son is  cast as the hero of this fairy tale. Your carping mate is virtue incarnate. Your cat and dog are enchanted beasts with fire to breathe and roles to play. And you have become the stepfather king, splenetic with bile and poisonous rage, wrecking vengeance on all who betray. You scramble after that abandoned book, seeking a draught of reality to save you from the fantasy horrors of the everyday. Contributor's bio Table of Contents