Year 1 “Got a new one for you,” the mover said. Small man, in neat overalls, wheeling the box on the stacker. That’s what the robot saw when they opened the box and let it out. It stepped cautiously out into sunshine. An unfamiliar city skyline, a boxy whitewashed building in front of him, a […]

I was finishing the last of my nightly coffee when the nineteen-seventies twins approached my table and asked me to bear witness to their disappearance. This was not an unusual request at Cafe Liminalité, being the locale of patrons that dreamed too much and ate too little. I, being its longest and oldest customer, had […]

The dose hits, blindsiding me with a gentle, warm light, and at once each of my trembled breaths is filled with a sweet taste like water ice. I will float over every ache and smooth over every edge until I indulge in the deliberate, ponderous, redshifted joy of living. And indulge it is. Even though […]

I To learn the craft of witches, one must cultivate the pillars of magical living: curiosity, attentiveness, and perseverance. Those who are curious desire to understand the mysteries of the world; those who are attentive observe and apply their focus to achieving that understanding; those who persevere embrace the challenges inherent in the unending pursuit […]

The country was at just over ten thousand deaths the morning that the door appeared. On Kosmo’s phone NPR was interviewing a doctor with a nasal voice about the need for social distancing, while Kosmo himself collected empty cans from around his home office. They were everywhere. Walls of recyclable cans dominated his room. Just […]

“Ambition!” Trevor emphasized, rapping knuckles hard on the wood table. “That is what makes the great men!” He took a satisfied swallow from his mug. Across from him, Barnaby put down the daily he’d been reading and sipped from his own beer. Pulling out a handkerchief to dab froth from his lips, he scratched thoughtfully […]

Planet Lion by Catherynne M. Valente in Uncanny: A Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy Issue Four.

22. Tea for Three Published 1934, Harem House Press, 128 pages Gudrun hated her name, her mother, and bad art. She loved her house, a wild turkey called Murray who had decided to live out his sunset years in her garden, and Cold Palace Brand No. 1 Silver Needle Tea, which, by the time the […]

Answer 1: Your mother was right. I get pissed off upset too easily, and I can’t be trusted with money. I can make a lot of excuses but the clearest answer is she’s always been right about our fights everything. She thinks your best chances are by her raising you with her folks. The mines aren’t […]

I never thought I’d want to make a film about the Lost Countrymen and the ghosts that haunt their ship. It’s been years since my brief time with them, but how could I forget them, the ghosts muttering to themselves about worlds long gone? Eyes starry wide, dreaming of a future Earth that would receive […]

Much like Ishmael, I have experienced a fair number of damp, drizzly Novembers in my soul. And I, too, have required a strong moral principle to prevent me from stepping into the street and methodically knocking people’s hats off. But unlike Ishmael, I can’t quietly take to sea because my lunch break is only forty-five […]

People have no idea how much of themselves they can slough off. Every night, I clean oodles of ttae—exfoliated skin cells, rolled up into crescent doughs. They lap about in the Hot Springs; merge into foamy scums. I skim them with my net; run new water through the pools. When the baths brim again with […]

The planet of the worms is a cold, barren, sunless place. The worms do not think. They feel nothing but hunger, and so they eat. They eat through the planet’s surface. They eat through the planet’s molten core. Over time, the planet grows speckled and spongelike, riddled with tunnels and holes. But the worms don’t […]

If you were to drive to my sister Violet’s house today, you would find yourself at a very different place from the one I encountered on my first trip. The road up the mountain has been paved, for one thing, to make it more accessible to the tourists who now support it. Back then if […]

Aden had never once forgotten his gear for bulk trash day, but he found it touching that Nura still taped a monthly reminder note on the door from the kitchen to the garage. Sweet of her to remember, given how exhausted med school had her these days. He ducked out to the garage to toss […]

Content Note: All Possible Warnings Apply click here for full note Warnings: violence, incest, cannibalism, fratricide, attempted infanticide just as in the original…   Children don’t generally assume their father will abandon them to die in the snow. But under certain circumstances, they might get an inkling. If their mother had died the year before, […]

Author’s Note: I’ve taken liberties here somewhat with both place and time so that the rise of Martha’s Vineyard as a safe place to travel for Black Americans intersects with the peak Deaf population of the island. Martha’s Vineyard Sign Language, which originated in the relatively isolated village of Chilmark, is distinct from American Sign […]

From: Nefnef_baby@lyons-edu.org To: Cara Hasani CaraMia1990@mailbuddy.gr September 18, 2015, 5:36 am Subject: I am drifting, but thank you for the photos My dear Cara, Thank you for sending me the photos, I never thought I’d feel this way again. But the pictures help. They really do. I can’t stop looking at them. Thank you for […]

The oddest sensation gripped me when I visited Blood Moon Market last night. It stole upon me as I paid the entrance fee—both pinkie fingernails and a lock of my thinning gray hair—and settled with cold inevitability into my stomach as I walked past the stall of Forgotten Music. I was a stranger inhabiting my […]

Content note: Child death   It was half past midnight when Olga heard the Devil cry.  They were supposed to be wild tonight, the three of them. Cassandra had led the way and Maria and Olga didn’t put up much of a fight. They would visit the Devil’s bridge—anything that claimed to be even remotely […]

So, hear nah. This is how it happen. Was years after Malcolm pass through and wash away a lot ah we little islands coasts, and mash up so much ah Florida and Texas and them places, and people say they ain’t waiting for no next storm like that one, and they pack up they things […]

During one of the much smaller disasters that preceded the really big disaster, I met a lot of my neighbors online. I can’t remember if we set up the WhatsApp group because of the pandemic or the civil disorder or both. My Minneapolis block had always been reasonably friendly—people would take their kids around on […]