Stories

The little girl reached up and tugged on her mother’s sleeve. “Mommy. That man’s here again!” The woman looked over at the odd man who’d been at the park for the last several weekends to see that he was, indeed, smiling at them and waving. via Pocket Godzilla vs Buster Keaton, Or I Didn’t Even Need a Map | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2OHrQyu via FREE Fiction / Raindrop.io https://raindrop.io

via FREE Fiction / Raindrop.io https://raindrop.io My parents were offered the usual platitudes: Einstein did not speak until he was in primary school(not true); did you try a body-based therapy(the answer a horrified “no!”); she will never shut up when she starts(in high school, I would often go fo… The Prison-house of Language | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2C5Xn9Q

via FREE Fiction / Raindrop.io https://raindrop.io Poets and sages like to say that there is clarity in certain death. That a calm resignation settles over the nearly deceased, and they embrace the inevitability of the end of life with dignity and grace. via Pocket Ghosts of New York | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2CgiA0E

via FREE Fiction / Raindrop.io https://raindrop.io MS. Orre. 1013A Miscellany of materials copied from within Master Leuwin Orrerel’s (d. Lady Year 673, Bright Be the Edges) library by Dominic Merrowin (d. Lady Year 673, Bright Be the Edges). via Pocket The Green Book | Apex Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2CgiJRK

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

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…

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

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

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

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 …

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…

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

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

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, …