But the ferns have turned Papa's thoughts to slow, ponderous things, moving the way a fighter does just before they hit the ground. Fresh fiddleheads unfurl from his skin each night, bobbing merrily with his breath each morning.
Author: Rick Tobin Her lips were soft as marshmallows fresh out of the bag—tender yet unyielding to Aaron’s hard press against them. They’d been torn apart from their love for years, but now, suddenly renewed, he could not hold back tears as they kissed. His strong hands held her thick dark hair as he pulled […]
Author: Alastair Millar If you’re a trillionaire, you can get powerful people to turn up when you call an informal meeting. It’s one of the perks. As the Industrialist’s guests finished their excellent meal, the Diplomat put down his glass and said, “This is all very pleasant, but why are we here?” “I’ve decided to […]
Audio Transmission From Storm Rider One - 365tomorrows
Author: James Flanagan From Elizabeth I to Elizabeth II this storm has raged unabated. Wars and plagues have scoured the Earth while eras of enlightenment and eras of disgrace have risen and slipped away, and always the mother of all storms has boiled and churned — the Big Red Eye of Jupiter. Annie Edson Taylor […]
Author: Julian Miles, Staff Writer The room is greener than my natural dermal shade in springtime, and the air conditioning is more noisy than effective. Both of which are features of another day on Earth, the quirkiest destination in Cluster 644984, catchily known as ‘The Milky Way’ among the locals. “I hate humans.” I turn […]
Continued from Part 1) Kite was still curled into a bundle of blankets in front of the stove when Setti woke. The old woman sniffed, torn between surprise and annoyance. She’d have figured him for a…
Setti knew the woman for a ghost the moment she appeared. It was the pink hair that gave her away, short and spiky. Real people didn’t have hair like that. Also, you couldn’t see the scratchmarks on…
In this provocative and rich retelling of the Greek myth, Orpheus, the musician son of Apollo and Calliope, successfully rescues his wife Eurydice from Hades after her untimely death. First Step Orpheus puts a plate of eggs down in front of her. The eggs are perfect; after everything, he finally got it […]
In a sea of long grass and tiny yellow blueberry flowers some ways off of Route 1, just about halfway between Cobscook Bay and Passamaquoddy Bay, the town of Sauve-Majeure puts up its back against the Bald Moose Mountains.
War is a dinner party. My ladies and I have spent the dregs of summer making ready. We have hung garlands of pennyroyal and snowberries in the snug, familiar halls of Laburnum Castle, strained cheese as pure as ice for weeks in the caves and the kitchens, covered any gloomy stone with tapestries or stags’ heads with mistletoe braided through their antlers. We sent away south to the great markets of Mother-of-Millions for new silks and velvets and furs.
There are big curse words and little curse words in anybody’s language. A little cursing isn’t hardly cursing at all. A child could do it and everyone round the supper table would laugh, turn red, and stick a bun in that sour young mouth while secretly making a note to…
22. Tea for Three Published 1934, Harem House Press, 128 pages Gudrun hated her name, her mother, and bad art. She loved her house, a wild turkey called Murray who had decided to live out his sunset years in her garden, and Cold Palace Brand No. 1 Silver Needle Tea, which, by the time the […]
The Ordinary Woman and the Unquiet Emperor - Reactor
On International Women’s Day, several of the best writers in SF/F today reveal new stories inspired by the phrase “Nevertheless, she persisted”, raising their voice in response to a phrase originally meant to silence. The stories publish on Tor.com all throughout the day of March 8th. They are collected here. The Ordinary Woman and the Read More »
Golubash, Or Wine-Blood-War-Elegy - Lightspeed Magazine
The difficulties of transporting wine over interstellar distances are manifold. Wine is, after all, like a child. It can bruise. It can suffer trauma—sometimes the poor creature can recover; sometimes it must be locked up in a cellar until it learns to behave itself. Sometimes it is irredeemable. I ask that you greet the seven glasses before you tonight not as simple fermented grapes, but as the living creatures they are, well-brought up, indulged but not coddled, punished when necessary, shyly seeking your approval with clasped hands and slicked hair.
The Somnambulant by Sam W. Pisciotta The moon sits plump within a windowpane as if plucked from the sky and framed for safekeeping. Bound by forces beyond our control, the moon and I share a yearning to pull free. I touch my finger on the icy glass and dream of leaving this place. But […]
When I Lost Those Eight Minutes and Twenty Seconds - 365tomorrows
Author: Allie Nava They say your life flashes before you as you fold into the arms of death, and perhaps that is what happened to me when I lost those eight minutes and twenty seconds. I was a child peddling gleeful “whee’s” on a red bicycle, over a calming ocean of green hillocks. I was […]
Author: Paul Schmidt Joshua burst awake, a dislocated memory of laughter and candlelight tapering into the ether. That same synthetic voice buzzed in his ear. His contact companion, installed at his ocular barrier, always had a habit of waking him abruptly. “Rise and shine, Joshua! It’s a fantastic day.” Joshua gritted his teeth, groggily slipping […]
“Valley. Can you still hear me?” Julian’s voice filtered through her dying radio. The Prince of Cats was a speck of light, dimming through the gold-grey film that, atom by atom…
Author: Bill Cox I’m making this recording standing on the cliffs at Troup Head on the Moray coast of Scotland. This used to be one of my favourite places. It’s famous for the seabird colonies that nest here, Gannets, Guillemots and Razorbills creating raucous seasonal cities on sheer faces of rock. I especially liked coming […]
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