Stories

After the zombie outbreak in San Fontaine was put down, Zadie treated herself to a new hair color as a way to get away from constantly watching the news. via Pocket

A Siren’s Cry Is a Song of Sorrow | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2xDNiih My first memory is of orderly rows of human skulls placed on glass shelves. Little white cards that I cannot read rest in front of each. My parents had taken me to the Museum of Natural History as a means of expanding my educational horizons. via Po…

All Clear | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2JQetcW Translated by R. Orion Martin When the security alarm rang out, Zhang Dong was at the very peak of the village, thinking about family. Recent bickering with his father had left him smoldering with resentment. Maybe it was just as Liang said—time to …

When Amelia turned fourteen, everyone assured her that she’d find her fairy soon. Almost all girls did. You’d find a fairy, a beautiful little fairy, and catch her. via Pocket Field Biology of the Wee Fairies | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2MOGbge

Jerena hung up after listening to the on-hold loop six whole minutes. She knew those needle-sharp mini-shrieks ending each repetition were supposed to annoy her. “Well guess what? They worked,” she told her mousy-grey cat. Human Services had won ano… Luisah’s Church | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2wQp1Hx

My granddad used to tell me that there were only two things he was afraid of: sharks and somehow finding himself in Iraq. I am on my way to, of all places, Baghdad. For a long time Iraq was synonymous with violence and mayhem. Grandad didn’t live to… The Standard of Ur | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2Ep9pP9

You wake up to your phone crawling across your face, buzzing hard against your cheekbone. Snatch it up on muscle memory and the little plastic cilia retract. The screen is achingly bright, needles your eyes. Squinting, you see an avalanche of notifi…

The woman you go to see for your reading isn’t old, but her eyes have aged more than her skin as if she’s seen horrors but hasn’t learned to hide them. Her name online is Butter, and you see why. She’s a punkinskin, her complexion high yellow and do…

A Priest of Vast and Distant Places | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2p8a4dB You are on a plane again. An Emirates flight, this time, the dusk-dark ceiling seamed with false stars. via Pocket

The sign outside Hello Design Coffin Works read, FOR SALE: FANTASY COFFINS. But the little girl imagined more ominous words floating just below the other letters, “Ababuo Need Not Apply.” via Pocket For Sale Fantasy Coffins (Ababuo Need Not Apply) | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2NXJ5uV

Not everything that’s missing was taken, but once it’s gone, it’s gone, ain’t it? There’s nothing to be done about it now. What isn’t dead is burned to the ground. What isn’t mourned is barely remembered. Forward, then. Since you think you know defe… Mother Jones and the Nasty Eclipse | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2jWwhZ6

Ginny’s hand is on Cal’s face. She’s smiling with red-rimmed, squinting eyes. The bedroom is tuned to a light blue-green and her map of Cuba has been shifted onto the east wall, between the two windows. via Pocket Stars so Sharp They Break the Skin | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2HHsA3H

1957 | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2ypuKBE It was a bright day in May, and the clocks were striking twelve. I had no idea why I’d been summoned to the Head’s study. Dr. Treadwell had four clocks there, each a present from a grateful pupil. We heard the chapel clock everywhere in Dean House, …

Cottage Country | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2pGDQ9u I had come into some money and with it, purchased four hundred acres of land. I signed the lease in early fall, when the forest was a patchwork quilt of color. It was old-growth outside of Sudbury, east of the airport. via Pocket

There weren’t many three-bedroom houses that a single woman could afford.  1532 Lachmont Drive was an exception.  Built in the 1930s from masonry block, it sat in the middle of a line of houses that had once been very similar to it. via Pocket

RT @apexjason: Nothing worse than a tomato thief. Read Ursula Vernon's Hugo-nominated novelette at @apexmag https://t.co/uWIn2yHRcE Nothing worse than a tomato thief. Read Ursula Vernon's Hugo-nominated novelette at @apexmag https://t.co/uWIn2yHRcE – Jason Sizemore (apexjason) http://twitter.com/apexjason/status/853264791493902336