Some kids do that---they imprint on empty objects, they give them stories and opinions and a will, until they feel half-inhabited even to grownups, who have to pretend that they care how Chrissy’s blanket feels about things for so long that one day when Chrissy’s at school they step on the blanket and apologize. I did it with anything, when I was young; my toys were always in the middle of some intense plot that nobody outside could understand.
An Accidental Coven by Laura Blackwell – Syntax & Salt Magazine
One Saturday night six months ago, my husband and I attended a party where we saw three women wearing the same dress. To save those present from embarrassment, I will not identify them by name, car…
Author : Jae Miles, Staff Writer My dad was a spy. A really good one, according to mum. I couldn’t get her to understand. How could he have been any good if he got caught? It meant there was a bett…
Author : Terry J. Golob I ride the slow rails on the trashed echelon in a dying sector of the multi-city; the rotting, moss-covered penthouses glow fuzzy green in an opalescent fog. Crusty, white-s…
The Three Sisters – K. D. Azariah-Kribbs – Metaphorosis Magazine
Once upon a time there were three brothers who lived with their parents in the midst of a vast forest. If there were any other people in the forest, they knew nothing of them, for they found no tra…
Read my flash story “The Monster Hunter’s Last Lament” – written for R.B. Wood’s Word Count Podcast – Maria Haskins
My latest story for R.B. Wood’s Word Count Podcast was inspired by the prompt “Where have our students gone”, the photo prompt (a dilapidated school bus), and my recent interest in the show Supernatural. It is, I guess, my take on what life might be…
After marrying the prince and having her own child, Snow White visits her stepmother—promising to kill her in ever more horrible ways, at the same time attempting to stay away from the mirror that started it all. I shall drown you in the river where…
Beneath Ceaseless Skies | Shadowdrop by Chris Willrich
The folk of the Infinite Forum swore in nine languages and ninety dialects as a cat’s black shape darted up Via Antiqua’s hot white stones. They hissed again as they spied the magic-twisted bloodhound bounding after it like a carnelian thundercloud.…
Beneath Ceaseless Skies | Court of Birth, Court of Strength by Aliette de Bodard
The leader of House Hawthorn’s Court of Birth lived in a part of the House that Samariel had never been to: a wing of dusty, disused corridors where the wainscoting had rotted away and the wallpaper’s elegant asphodels were obscured by elongated smu…
Beneath Ceaseless Skies | We Ragged Few by Kate Alice Marshall
The rot hound struck in the dark hours of the morning. It took one of our horses and left a geld woman bloodied and wild, telling tales of a two-headed wolf with eyes like the last embers of a fire. I had known this would come. Not the wolf but some…
He cut off her arms and threw them on the side of the road. They wanted a boy. Her uncle taught her how to play the game. The last time anyone saw her she was dancing. She was drunk. She was flirting with everyone. She was wearing a short skirt. She…