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Learning to See Dragons - Uncanny Magazine
Learning to See Dragons - Uncanny Magazine
The spring she was thirteen, Annie taught herself to see dragons. She sat by the window in the hospital and looked out at the soft, strange Smoky Mountains, and the spreading gossamer haze that rose off them, and the white rucked clouds above. ā€œI thought the old dragon was too mean to die,ā€ her father ā€¦
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Learning to See Dragons - Uncanny Magazine
Pipecleaner Sculptures and Other Necessary Work - Uncanny Magazine
Pipecleaner Sculptures and Other Necessary Work - Uncanny Magazine
ā€œGoodbye!ā€ ā€œBye, Miss Ninah!ā€ ā€œGoodbye, goodbye!ā€ Ninah stood at the door, watching the kids head off to their parents in other parts of the ship. When the last one had vanished, she wheeled back into the classroom, ready for the bittersweet weekly ritual of taking down the art projects. The preschool classroom was small, carved ā€¦
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Pipecleaner Sculptures and Other Necessary Work - Uncanny Magazine
The Shape of the Darkness As It Overtakes Us - Uncanny Magazine
The Shape of the Darkness As It Overtakes Us - Uncanny Magazine
This is a story about the myths built into our spines. You and I are chatting about work one evening in early September, the conversation of friends who, two decades after meeting in high school, still canā€™t quite grasp how to shoulder the weight of our world. Perhaps we both would rather talk about the ā€¦
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The Shape of the Darkness As It Overtakes Us - Uncanny Magazine
Children of Thorns, Children of Water - Uncanny Magazine
Children of Thorns, Children of Water - Uncanny Magazine
With thanks to Stephanie Burgis, Fran Wilde and Kate Elliott It was a large, magnificent room with intricate patterns of ivy branches on the tiles, and a large mirror above a marble fireplace, the mantlepiece crammed with curios from delicate silver bowls to Chinese blue-and-white porcelain figures: a clear statement of casual power, to leave ā€¦
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Children of Thorns, Children of Water - Uncanny Magazine
Fandom for Robots - Uncanny Magazine
Fandom for Robots - Uncanny Magazine
Computron feels no emotion towards the animated television show titled Hyperdimension Warp Record (č¶…ę¬”å…ƒ ćƒÆćƒ¼ćƒ— ćƒ¬ć‚³ćƒ¼ćƒ‰). After all, Computron does not have any emotion circuits installed, and is thus constitutionally incapable of experiencing ā€œexcitement,ā€ ā€œhatred,ā€ or ā€œfrustration.ā€ It is completely impossible for Computron to experience emotions such as ā€œexcitement about the seventh episode of HyperWarp,ā€ ā€¦
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Fandom for Robots - Uncanny Magazine
The First Witch of Damansara - Uncanny Magazine
The First Witch of Damansara - Uncanny Magazine
Vivianā€™s late grandmother was a witchā€”which is just a way of saying she was a woman of unusual insight. Vivian, in contrast, had a mind like a hi-tech blender. She was sharp and purposeful, but she did not understand magic. This used to be a problem. Magic ran in the family. Even her motherā€™s second ā€¦
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The First Witch of Damansara - Uncanny Magazine
Elemental Love - Uncanny Magazine
Elemental Love - Uncanny Magazine
Fifty-three percent: Water. Tasteless, odorless, almost colorless blue. A single oxygen atom with open arms, clasping hydrogen twins. The universal solvent, creating the specific you. Eighteen-and-a-half percent: Carbon. As graphite, soft enough to mark paper. In diamond, hard enough to withstand the pressure of six million atmospheres. In your body, the respiration of thirty-seven trillion ā€¦
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Elemental Love - Uncanny Magazine
Making Us Monsters - Uncanny Magazine
Making Us Monsters - Uncanny Magazine
Sunday, 1 September 1918 A Depot, A.P.O.S. 17, B.E.F. France Dearest of all Friends, Thereā€™s no sense being cross with meā€”you know better than most that an officer canā€™t give orders and then blame the soldier for carrying them out. And moreā€™s the pity if that officer issued contradictory orders in the first place. You ā€¦
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Making Us Monsters - Uncanny Magazine
Clearly Lettered in a Mostly Steady Hand - Uncanny Magazine
Clearly Lettered in a Mostly Steady Hand - Uncanny Magazine
Entrance Thereā€™s a ticket booth on my tongue. Donā€™t look in my eyes, donā€™t plead curiosity, you wonā€™t get anywhere with that. Try it and youā€™ll see your reflection in my sea-green gaze: your shadow sprinting through the heavy glass doors. Youā€™ll smell a whiff of brine, perhaps something more volatile. Youā€™ll be caught and ā€¦
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Clearly Lettered in a Mostly Steady Hand - Uncanny Magazine
Henosis - Uncanny Magazine
Henosis - Uncanny Magazine
Chapter 4 ā€œBut theyā€™re going to kill you,ā€ the woman said. Harkim sighed at her silhouette. ā€œOf course they are,ā€ he replied. Chapter 2 The car lurched again. Harkim looked up from his agentā€™s face on the backseat screen, wondering what on earth was wrong with his driver. ā€œLuketon? Have you been at the ā€¦
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Henosis - Uncanny Magazine
Though She Be But Little - Uncanny Magazine
Though She Be But Little - Uncanny Magazine
For Jill and Julia Rios Emma Anne had a tin can attached by a string to her belt. Lots of things on strings bounced and banged from it: some useful (like the pocket knife), some decorative (a length of red ribbon longer than herself, looped up), some that simply seemed interesting enough to warrant a ā€¦
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Though She Be But Little - Uncanny Magazine
Down and Out in Rā€™lyeh - Uncanny Magazine
Down and Out in Rā€™lyeh - Uncanny Magazine
In his house at Rā€™lyeh, dead Cthulhu farts in his sleep. If youā€™re dank like me, you gibber up the Old Fuckā€™s brainspout, crouch in there full gargoyle on his raggedy roof, wrap your gash around the slime-lung chimney, and huff that vast and loathsome shit like the space-curdled milk of your mamaā€™s million terror-tits. ā€¦
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Down and Out in Rā€™lyeh - Uncanny Magazine
At Cooneyā€™s - Uncanny Magazine
At Cooneyā€™s - Uncanny Magazine
Down on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, thereā€™s a little bar called Cooneyā€™s. Itā€™s an old bar, with a tin ceiling and carved-up tables and a floor you donā€™t want to look at too hard and no air-conditioning to break up the historic atmosphere of stale beer and dusty upholstery and unwashed hair. No ā€¦
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At Cooneyā€™s - Uncanny Magazine
Packing - Uncanny Magazine
Packing - Uncanny Magazine
Today is not the day I wanted to do this, but we arenā€™t always given choices. Itā€™s time to pack for the new seasons. No, you canā€™t stay. This place wonā€™t be here soon. Itā€™s already going, slipping away, each new summer tearing off strips. You can see the new flesh underneath. Weā€™re still guessing ā€¦
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Packing - Uncanny Magazine
The Worshipful Society of Glovers - Uncanny Magazine
The Worshipful Society of Glovers - Uncanny Magazine
Outside the cracked window of the garret, the cockle-seller hollered, ā€œCockles anā€™ mussels! Cockles anā€™ mussels!ā€ Her voice blended with the other London morning street sounds to mean that Vaughn was going to be late. ā€œBotheration.ā€ He tied off the thread in the fine blue leather of the gloves he was stitching and snipped it ā€¦
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The Worshipful Society of Glovers - Uncanny Magazine