Fictional Worlds

I saw her clearly, then: beautiful and terrible, ancient and radical, a goddess as much as any human can be. Killing a hexapedal carnivore with a hand-made spear, hiding for two days from a giant a…

Every time a warlord found me, intent on my becoming their blunt instrument, a mismatched armada followed shortly after—some squabbling coalition of assorted ally species, determined to save …

Almost as one, the runners leap from the shelter roof. When the maglev leaves the station, they'll be on top of it, heading for the labyrinthine transfer station beneath the eye of the ancient, dec…

They bombed the clinic again at seven a.m. that Friday, between my shower and the hunt for a clean pair of socks.

It was a simple matter for Mouse to rip apart the thorny mess; and with that hindrance gone, even Lion's outdated meta-processes began to salve stressed joints and re-connect wounded couplings. Tha…

"High fever. Dehydration. Recurring dreams of swans," the doctor has noted in the description area.

In the Year of the Rabbit, Peisun decided to paint her heart's desire on a stack of thin, tea-stained rice paper.

The newcomer caught sight of her and saluted, grinning, and Captain Perea saluted back, disconcerted by the mirrored feel of it. And the civilians started clapping now, the cheering subsiding and g…

My name is Violet. I’m married to Tom and I’m old and I’d like to say that’s how I introduce myself to people, but it would be a lie. I don’t introduce myself to anyone. I’m of no interest, not eve…

In the early dawn, Koha sends Morami out to hunt red-finned roach. She stands knee-deep in cold water as fog hangs in silent drifts over the river.

Summers in Shenzhen Bay last ten months. Mangrove swamps surround the bay like congealed blood. Year after year, they shrink and rot, like the rust-colored night that hides many crimes.

Bolajoko sulked, snapping her gum. “I’m not good at matching up mortals, okay? Remember the André 3000 and Erykah Badu incident? Exactly.”

For five years in the city I worked as a receptionist at an English language school, where I had to deal with countless, groundless complaints and had developed a Noh-mask on my face devoid of any …

HiQIRR is a long-range self-guided highway-quality-inspection robotic rover. Federal Highway Administration rover-naming procedures designated HiQIRR Illinois26. Krace doesn’t like the designation…

All women dream of rescuing Napoleon. For less ambitious girls, it is only a passing fancy. They imagine sailing across the Atlantic on a stolen ship, their hair flowing behind them like a flag. Na…

Across the grainy darkness of the metal crate, white block letters are clearly visible: WENDIGO.

It’s true that when anyone asks me what I’m doing here I get flustered, but given time I can make it all seem most appealing: I scatter flour on the work surface; I shape the dough before sliding i…

The black birthmark on his right cheek also changed, though it always looked like something that had fallen from a basket of produce. At first, it looked like a carrot, then later a cucumber. Its t…

Summers in Shenzhen Bay last ten months. Mangrove swamps surround the bay like congealed blood. Year after year, they shrink and rot, like the rust-colored night that hides many crimes.

The first thing I noticed about the boys was their eyes. Not their dark-skinned chests, arms glistening with moisture in the beach sun. Not the gold or silver teeth that winked in their smiles. Not…

Papi has joked before about buying a gun and shooting down the vultures: “una escopeta,” he says as he holds an imaginary gun aimed at the birds whose feathers adorn my bedroom window, “y PUM! desa…

They say they want you to catch the man in the moon, So they have you lay back and unravel your braid And look up.

Scarlett accidentally wakes the dead in the bottom of a coat closet, with a half-naked boy pressed against her and a bottle of tequila she’s too drunk to drink.

It is dawn. In 1997, in Brigham City, Utah, Alexis Tromble is already awake. via Pocket

Somewhere between suicide and another episode of Hoarder Wars, I stumble on a ghost season of Princess Mine. Only two seasons were ever produced; the lead actress passed away before filming started on the third, but there it is, all six episodes, re…

The harvest moon. The blue moon. The tropical moon. Flat moon—the moon you find in puddles. Strong moon—this is the moon of dogs, and I don’t know why they call it that. Dogs howl at a moon for not being the strong moon. Kite moon, that rides over y…

The last song and dance number that Izzie Valdes performs in the Elegance Retreat Resort and Spa's Weekly Michael Jackson Tribute Spectacular is "Thriller," copyright 1982 MJJ Records. Usually, this works out well. via Pocket

There, quick—the blue sky bleeds. A runner in red tumbles across it, unstoppable, the sun itself shattering against her armor. One leg outstretched, the other flung behind her, vaulting from one moment to the next, and between them suspended in flig…

The interpreter’s voice is weak like a little bird’s, coming from a child’s lungs, but her diction is strong and certain like an adult’s. The Envoy speaks in his Earthian language and Henon words flow from Sam-Sa-Ee’s mouth. Across the table sits th…

For as long as I can remember, Mythili has said she was going to leave. Even when we were children, she would tell Kumar and me that she was leaving the next day and we would never see her again. via Pocket