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The Day They Came - Lightspeed Magazine
The Day They Came - Lightspeed Magazine
You remember the day they came. The shady corner behind the store smelled of Lou’s cigarettes and the dumpster down the alley, just shy of pick-up day and overflowing already. You chewed your sandwich and stared at the weeds growing through the asphalt. The day was stifled by summer heat and suffocating humidity, too bright and too hazy all at once. A shadow passed overhead. You looked up.
·lightspeedmagazine.com·
The Day They Came - Lightspeed Magazine
Alarms - Lightspeed Magazine
Alarms - Lightspeed Magazine
My curse is that I set off alarms. Smoke alarms. Car alarms. House alarms. It doesn’t matter what kind; I set them all off as soon as I get close to them. Close is usually about thirty feet. I don’t know why I set them off. I haven’t always been like this. I used to be fairly normal.
·lightspeedmagazine.com·
Alarms - Lightspeed Magazine
Test - Lightspeed Magazine
Test - Lightspeed Magazine
Something is eating the starship Stephen W. Hawking, chewing it slowly and efficiently to pieces. Hurtling through hyperspace, or merely hanging suspended therein (who can really tell about hyperspace?), the vessel has become entangled with an unknown entity that exhibits at least one recognizable attribute: curiosity.stev
·lightspeedmagazine.com·
Test - Lightspeed Magazine
Forget You - Lightspeed Magazine
Forget You - Lightspeed Magazine
She came into his life the way his cats crept into his lap. One day he was alone, had been alone for years, his life and his home empty of anyone but himself and a few friends who didn’t visit all that often anyway. And then at some point he realized she had been there for a while, in his house, in his bed, in every part of his life, having accomplished the transition so subtly that he could never say exactly when or how it had occurred.
·lightspeedmagazine.com·
Forget You - Lightspeed Magazine
Ruminations in an Alien Tongue - Lightspeed Magazine
Ruminations in an Alien Tongue - Lightspeed Magazine
Sitting on the sun-warmed step at the end of her workday, Birha laid her hand on the dog’s neck and let her mind drift. Like a gyre-moth finding the center of its desire, her mind inevitably spiraled inward to the defining moment of her life. It must be something to do with growing old, she thought irritably, that all she did was revisit what had happened all those years ago.
·lightspeedmagazine.com·
Ruminations in an Alien Tongue - Lightspeed Magazine
Mother Ship - Lightspeed Magazine
Mother Ship - Lightspeed Magazine
My mother was a colony ship. For one revolution of the galaxy, a quarter of a billion years, she carried her creators between the stars. At the end of that time, all the creators had died. My mother drifted aimlessly through space. After a hundred million years of traveling alone and empty, her drifting brought her to Earth.
·lightspeedmagazine.com·
Mother Ship - Lightspeed Magazine
The Cross-Time Accountants Fail To Kill Hitler Because Chuck Berry Does The Twist - Lightspeed Magazine
The Cross-Time Accountants Fail To Kill Hitler Because Chuck Berry Does The Twist - Lightspeed Magazine
Mabel blurred through the Doorway and stumbled into a wall. She groped for a fingerhold, anything to prop herself up until the gut-twisting vertigo passed. Every time she experienced the blur it got a little worse. All that worse added up to worst because she had made hundreds of auditing trips to the past during her thirty-nine year career in cross-time accounting.
·lightspeedmagazine.com·
The Cross-Time Accountants Fail To Kill Hitler Because Chuck Berry Does The Twist - Lightspeed Magazine
Renfrew’s Course - Lightspeed Magazine
Renfrew’s Course - Lightspeed Magazine
Six feet tall, the statue had been carved from wood that retained most of its whiteness, even though the date cut into its base read 2005, seven years ago. Jim thought the color might be due to its not having been finished—splinters stood out from the wood’s uneven surface—but didn’t know enough about carpentry to be certain.
·lightspeedmagazine.com·
Renfrew’s Course - Lightspeed Magazine
My Teacher, My Enemy - Lightspeed Magazine
My Teacher, My Enemy - Lightspeed Magazine
My enemy’s body is still warm when I take my knife to him. Stripped to his skin and lain upon his back, he looks much less frightening than he had when he was alive, armed, and desperate to kill me. But there is still power in the shape of his relaxing muscles and the size of his cooling frame, and, as he is a foot taller than I am, I feel a surge of pride in my accomplishment that is even greater than the hot pleasure of the kill.
·lightspeedmagazine.com·
My Teacher, My Enemy - Lightspeed Magazine
Requiem in the Key of Prose - Lightspeed Magazine
Requiem in the Key of Prose - Lightspeed Magazine
There is such a thing as an antifuse. This device is used to maintain the ongoing flow of electricity when there is local failure. The antifuse works similarly to a fuse in that it is designed to be sacrificed for a specific goal. But while a fuse is sacrificed to stop electricity from flowing, an antifuse is sacrificed to guarantee that the electricity does not stop.
·lightspeedmagazine.com·
Requiem in the Key of Prose - Lightspeed Magazine
Breaking the Frame - Lightspeed Magazine
Breaking the Frame - Lightspeed Magazine
The photograph is of a woman at the center of a forest. She is slim and tall and pale as the birches she stands among. The shadows turn her ribs and spine into branches, into knots in the wood. Around her arms, the peeling white bark of the birches, curved in bracelets. Between her thighs, the hair is dense and springy like moss. She is turning into a tree.
·lightspeedmagazine.com·
Breaking the Frame - Lightspeed Magazine
The Seven Samovars - Lightspeed Magazine
The Seven Samovars - Lightspeed Magazine
“The first samovar, the silver one at the end with the little bird perched atop the key, is filled to the top with Life,” she says, “freshly brewed each morning at sunrise exactly. A few drops will perk up most customers on a Monday morning, to be sure. And most of them need it, don’t you think?”
·lightspeedmagazine.com·
The Seven Samovars - Lightspeed Magazine
Spindles - Lightspeed Magazine
Spindles - Lightspeed Magazine
The first thing that went missing was the smell of onions cooking in butter. It took her a good long time to realize that this was gone, for she had never realized that onions were the cause of the smell. Onions remained, of course. Raw onions still smelled as they always did. They still made you cry when you cut them. But when you fried them: nothing. There was no smell. It was gone.
·lightspeedmagazine.com·
Spindles - Lightspeed Magazine