Fantasy
Remains
When it happens, you’re unprepared. Everyone is. You were never as safe as you believed. Normal ends here, in this moment. But you don’t know it at first. At first, you run. Run. Don’t look down, don’t look up.
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Fiction
Science Fiction
The Hole in the Garden
“She waited up for you.” Bhara’s voice gave Pyrish a start. He should have known she was there, in the doorway, as she was whenever he returned late. Which was . . . every night now. Since the latest incident, all he’d had time to do was change his clothing.
Fantasy
Simmered in Their Wealth Like the Richest of Sauces
Listen, my vicious darlings, for this world is strange and full of promise, and when you awake, there is much you’ll need to know. Long ages after humans last encountered a real, waking dragon, there was a man called Dennis Knight.
Science Fiction
Eve’s Prayer
Lord, I am here; I have taken off my helmet. Peyeala’s air is breathable, clean, better than anything on Earth. Its double-star system has not burned my flesh. Its gravity, three times ours, has not crushed my bones.
Fantasy
Instructions for the Broken Hearted
You Will Need: – a Heart in a jar; – a Knife (sharp); – a Tarp. Prep: Lay down tarp on clean surface. Place prybar and knife within reach. Place self on tarp. Instructions: Think of your most recent ex. Now, take the knife in your dominant hand.
Science Fiction
Money in the Bank
“I lined up a new gig for you,” said the Glovemaster. “All you have to do is protect one special guy.” I sat in my trailer with my Bluetooth headphones on and my laptop perched on an Amazon box. I wore a boonie hat with a militia logo.
Fantasy
You Will Not Live to See M/M Horrors Beyond Your Comprehension
SETTING: The adyton at the Temple of Delphi. Smoke rises from a vent in the floor, partially obscuring PYTHIA, who is sitting on a high stool carefully positioned behind the smoke. ACHILLES stands, supplicant. Behind him, the CHORUS looks at their phones.
Science Fiction
In the Nest Beneath the Mountain-Tree, Your Sisters Dance
Dr. Nirwater Leera only agreed to study Mr. Girat because he is supposed to be dead. Tomorrow, they will meet in person for the first time. But today, Leera wastes time by staring at a cellophane bag full of Girat’s vomit.
Fantasy
The Boy Who Ran from His Faerie Heart
Here is a boy, barely thirteen, broken, lying in the road, twisted metal around him, twisted metal in him. Here is his heart, pierced by the shrapnel of the truck, a truck no longer, now a confusion of tangled wire and torn steel and glass pebbles.
Science Fiction
Monopticon
I am thinking of a word. I will not tell you what it is. I will tell you a few other words. The words you were looking for, though not all the words you were hoping for. Some of the words you were hoping for, I’ll let you have. Such as these: You were right. Doesn’t that feel good?
