Clocking out via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2ORamjL

I sat at Roy and Emmy’s kitchen table, three cups of coffee between us, and mentally cursed my editor. Alien sighting. That’s what he’d said with a twinkle in his eye. That story’s all yours, kid. I choked on my coffee. “Karda —? Wait. via Pocket

I’ve been super-still in a tree for hours as I practise observation. I’m going to be a scientist, so learning to observe is very important. My corder hangs from my neck but I keep a hand near it all the time in case I spy something new. I already sa…

As a physics graduate student at a great technical university, my life was full. One of the things it was most full of was trying to find a parking space. I was not important enough to get a university sticker and not rich enough to afford a pay lot…

The two thieves stood before the giant vault, fresh out of ideas. “Well?” Braygin prodded, “what do you think?” Tesca shrugged. “I think the Regent’s not going to be pleased.” via Pocket

Grave robbery. If you think it’s a relic of gothic novels, think again. Now that the first generation of body-modified tech-bros and computer-implanted one-percenters sleep under tombstones, there’s a ton of gear in the ground. via Pocket

As May walked back through the time zones of her company town for the last time, she stared at the hands of her watch. She could feel her mind adjusting to its tiny motions, its auto-syncing movements slowing down as she passed through each border. …

The doorbell rang, a rarity these days. Harold didn’t hurry to the door. Someone in sales most likely. His heart sped a little anyway. “We don’t want any —” There she was, standing in the morning mist. Not exactly as he remembered but that lopsided …

It doesn’t feel real. I don’t feel connected to any of this, out here alone amidst all this nothing. Shadow coloured stones crushed and scattered under sneakers. Our passage unheard, we had slipped silently across the rooftop expanse to its eastern …

Reading in Bed by Joan Aiken

He gave an exclamation of astonishment, for at the back of her mouth he could see something white sticking up. He cautiously pulled it further forward with his forceps and discovered that it was the end of a long piece of cotton wool. He pulled again, and about a foot of it came out of her mouth, but that seemed to be nowhere near the end. He glanced at the girl in astonishment, but as she appeared quite calm he went on pulling, and the stuff kept reeling out of her throat until there was a tangle of it all over the floor.

Here is the whisper in the night, the creak upstairs, that half-remembered ghost story that won’t let you sleep, the sound that raises gooseflesh, the wish you’d checked the lock on the door before…

DNA exchange via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2MYOMcx

I placed the dishes in a haphazard pile in the sink and watched as the auto-sorter pulled them into the dishwasher one by one, stacking them into supersonic racks. My mind reeled from the phone call from school. “Meiling was acting up again. via Poc…

The sun beat down like a hammer. Stoneseeker scoured the base of the cliff, looking for rock samples to take back to the elders. It was his first solo exploration, and his brief was simple: find more flint. The chief had relieved him of hunting duti…

Subterranean Press is widely considered to be among the finest specialty publishers in the horror, suspense, fantasy and dark mystery genres.

I die a little | Nature via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2OJOiHE

By its nature, a self-help book is written by someone who thinks they know what to do and read by someone who doesn’t; there hasn’t been a better setup for the pompous to fleece the credulous since Rome stopped selling indulgences. via Pocket

Subterranean Press is widely considered to be among the finest specialty publishers in the horror, suspense, fantasy and dark mystery genres.

George R. R. Martin’s Wild Cards multi-author shared-world universe has been thrilling readers for over 25 years. Now, in addition to overseeing the ongoing publication of new Wild Cards book…

The door swings open, and a big, too-likable face gazes down at me. “No,” I snap. Sort of. That angry word, charging from glottis to tongue, shrinks at the lip from years of Catholic absolution. After all, it’s not his fault I’m here for my wife. vi…

I wake up sweating, check the alarm clock. Three fifty-nine? Too light. I fumble for my watch. Almost 10. I come back from Kyle and Lisa’s across the street. “They don’t have power either. And there’s no Sunday paper. Must be out across town.” via P…

The mountain dreams pain. Cold iron vibrates purple-blue deep in the stone while tongues made from rot and rust bite and gnaw and hunger ever deeper. The dam...