Stories

RELEASED 3.August.2016 AUTHOR: Bethany Edwards NARRATOR: George Hrab HOST: Tina Connolly WARNING: profane language and violence This story has not been previously published. Discuss on our forums. For a list of all Escape Pod stories, authors and narrators, visit our sortable Wikipedia page Thank you for visiting us on Facebook and Twitter about the author… Mystery! about the narrator… Multi-instrumentalist, singer, […]

AUTHOR: Bojan Ratković NARRATOR: Steve Anderson HOST: Norm Sherman Ride the Dragon is an Escape Pod original. Discuss on our forums. For a list of all Escape Pod stories, authors and narrators, visit our Wikia Thank you for visiting us on Facebook and Twitter about the author… Bojan Ratković is a writer from Serbia, now living in Ontario, Canada. His work […]

Wet Fur By Jeremiah Tolbert You can tell the dog owners when they board the plane; they see the black cloud hovering in the first row and their eyes widen in shock, then narrow in fear, followed by a glimmer of a smile, a hope as they glance at so many occupied seats. A hopeful …

Trash Talk By Holly Schofield I’m not a complainer, not me. I roll with the punches. I’ll be just another dead trash collector in about ten minutes but, hey, that’s okay. My son won’t die and, here’s a bonus, my life insurance policy will pay out. Unless they consider it suicide. Here we are, hugging …

Unit Two Does Her Makeup By Laura Duerr Doctor Spencer has brought me an artist. My eyes on the outside of the building register the identity of everyone who enters, including her: Suzanne Chantal Salinas, age 26, licensed esthetician and makeup artist, amateur painter. I cut the feed after .3 seconds. The security feed could tell […]

That Game We Played During the War By Carrie Vaughn From the moment she left the train station, absolutely everybody stopped to look at Calla. They watched her walk across the plaza and up the steps of the Northward Military Hospital. In her dull gray uniform she was like a storm cloud moving among the khaki […]

Nozizwe and Almahdi By J. R. Dawson She was a princess and he was a prince, and they had been genetically made for each other. The science had been precise down to their anatomical make-up, the blood and the speed in which that blood pulsed through their perfectly symmetrical hearts. His name was Almahdi. He had […]

An Equal Share of the Bone By Karen Osborne To kill a theriida, you need gunboats and suits, laser cutters and open-mawed cargo bays, brawn and a stout heart, and God on your side. We, of course, had none of that. I learned in the merchant marines to never shoot a theriida with a standard …

Home Sick By M. Darusha Wehm I was encoding a batch of classic ebooks when the ulu-aliki walked in to the library, the outdoors scent of gardenias and overripe mangoes following him. “Afternoon, chief,” I said, pushing my chair back a bit. Joseph Seru spoke Tuvaluan with his family and the other council members, but …

Given Sufficient Desperation By Bogi Takács An ice cream cone. A ceramic mug—brown with a single green stripe around the rim. A smartphone—I don’t recognise the brand. It’s been a while. Two sheaves of corn. A plush caterpillar toy from some cartoon. A table—rather worn, I’d say Danish Modern, but I’m not sure. I need …

Red in Tooth and Cog By Cat Rambo A phone can be so much. Your memory, your edge against boredom, your source of inspiration. There’s always an app for whatever you need. Renee valued her phone accordingly, even celebrating it by giving way to the trend for fancy phone-cases. Its edges were bezeled with bling …

The Sweetness at the End By Jenny Rae Rappaport This is how it happens: Tony and Ma are in their seats in the skimmer, strapped in and grinning at us. Daddy and I kiss them good bye; take a photo of them in their spacesuits for posterity, and wave at them. We stay behind at the …

Wasps Make Honey By Penelope Evans The scrap heaps at the edge of the settlement are taller than the average colony building. They offer up next to nothing good. But the factory doesn’t want either of us anymore. Power cells don’t come cheap now. In fact, they barely come at all. “Sometimes I think we should …

Cat Pictures, Please By Naomi Kritzer I don’t want to be evil. I want to be helpful. But knowing the optimal way to be helpful can be very complicated. There are all these ethical flow charts — I guess the official technical jargon would be “moral codes” — one for each religion plus dozens more. …

Sparg By Brian Trent Sparg had difficulty making pancakes, but he was trying. In the empty apartment, he clutched the silver bowl with one tentacle to hold it steady. With another, he attempted the far trickier business of whipping the batter as he’d seen his owners do many, many times. The bowl was bigger than …

When We Fall by Kameron Hurley I don’t remember the first time I was abandoned and forgotten, but I have told the story of the second time so often that when the memory boils up it feels hot and gummy, like the air that day. Whoever cared for me – and I can’t be certain …

Lonely Robot on a Rocket Ship in Space By A. Merc Rustad Byron scribbled crib notes on his wrist the night before he planned to come out to his dads. He’d told all his friends he was sick so he would have an excuse to stay home Friday night. It wasn’t like he was lying. …

The Sixes, the Wisdom, and the Wasp By E J Delaney Fereshteh Nemati was scared. She knew she was gripping her bow too tightly. She knew she should never ever aim at another person. But it wasn’t bad technique she was thinking of, or breaking her father’s golden rule. It wasn’t even the sight of poor …

My Generations Shall Praise By Samantha Henderson The woman on the other side of the glass must be very rich and very sick. I study her face, looking for any kind of resemblance. If I’m a Jarndyce candidate, we must be related. It’s the only way she could ride my brain. She’s a predator. I …

Surveillance Fatigue By Jennifer R. Donohue Is this woman a terrorist? It’s my job to decide. My typical first step is social media, before I delve into the emails, the school records. via Pocket

Anna and Marisol in Time and Space The big day came, and Anna was tempted to tie up Marisol and stash her in the closet just to be safe, but instead she put on her makeup and her pale blue gown (it was prettier than she remembered) and called, “Mari…

Astor did not want to discuss their coping plan. They didn’t want to think about their coping plan, or the trip itself, or the airport, or the subway, or— “No, thank you.” It had been worth a shot. “Never mind.” via Pocket

Brochures fanned across the lace tablecloth in Grandma’s dining room. Up close, I saw the recruiter’s immaculate makeup starting to crack, the silver showing against auburn at the part in her hair. She slanted forward with briefcase on knees and wei…

HK-812 stepped out of her charging pod and gazed out the single narrow window that her 8×14 living space boasted. The brick wall outside was a whole eight inches away from the glass, and the morning sunshine gave the red-brown a cheery tone. via Poc…

The space station was silent in the way that a black hole is black; it was more than just an absence of noise. There was something physical to the silence, a force pulling in all sound and eating it. via Pocket

The brown woman came to Vrau from the sky, without a name of her own. Piarcu knew that she was nameless, even though the women of his family only whispered it when they thought no one else could hear. via Pocket

When the guy with the horns came in, I knew it wouldn’t be a good shift. He scowled when the ZapStop’s doors refused to slide open for him. Ignoring the late-hours doorbell, he pounded one meaty fist on the shatterproof polycarbonate. via Pocket

After the terrible push to be free of the Earth was past, we could stand again. In a while, the engineers had said, everything would float, but for now we were still accelerating. via Pocket

They come to study. Not me. Not really. No, they come for Aerik—what he’s become. What I suppose we both will become when the slow swell of time and gravity finally draw us together wholly. via Pocket

You’re listening to the Mike Colavito Show on Cleveland’s home for straight talk, WCUY 1200. The opinions expressed on this program do not reflect those of WCUY, its management, or its sponsors. Fair warning; I’m in a mood today, folks. via Pocket