Now that he couldn’t afford to buy enough reality, Gustav had no option but to paint what he saw in ...

Preface Seven days passed for me on my little raft of a ship as I fled Melida; seven years for the r...

Most in that country called Tzigana a witch, though never to her face. Now that she was dead, you wo...

Joan wrote her prayer with a half-used tube of Chanel Vamp that she had found discarded at the 34th S...

1. The Table On the left-hand side of the coffee table were stacked three Michael Chabon novels, one...

Denial Ellie huddled in the corner of her daughter’s room. She sang a quiet lullaby and cradled her ...

Remembering Cimmeria: I walk through the bazaar, between the stalls of the spice sellers, smelling t...

Karol hung in the lock and yawned, which he’d have told anyone was his way of readjusting to the air...

A reading from the Book of Eyn the Wanderer: In those days there were many who admired Eyn for her d...

The issue of representation of men and women in science fiction is one that has caused much discussi...

Once there was a girl who lived in a beautiful place full of beautiful people who made beautiful thi...

Johnston Lien stood at the open door of the tram, one elbow crooked around a guardrail, her blue eye...

When something nearly kills you, it’s hard to avoid thinking about it. These events worm their way i...

Jeff VanderMeer’s Southern Reach trilogy, comprised of Annihilation, Authority, and Acceptance was o...

Keel wore a ragged shirt with the holo Veed There, Simmed That shimmering on it. She wore it in and ...

Kanseun Ong was procrastinating on her end-of-term assignment by puzzling over a letter from her old...

Our society has a weird relationship with logos. Put a popular brand name on a t-shirt, and you’ll f...

Everybody else got off the train at Hell, but I figured, it’s a free country. So I commenced to make...

When the Fourth Street biolab went up, I didn't think of Casey right away. I was working in the far ...

I remember being with Maman in the cabin of her ship, anchored someplace where the wind was always h...

by K.M. Ferebee Childer killed the boy during the night, quietly, on the bed’s Egyptian cotton sheet...

Samuel Crewe was the son of a witch. He was, in fact, the seventh son of a witch, who had herself be...

Description: Dark brown leather valise, ~29,300 cubic centimeters in volume. Pigskin lining intact, ...

Niko leaned behind me in the cabin, raising his voice to be heard over the roar of engine and water,...

The LED bug kicks feebly, trying to push itself away from the wall. Its wings are rounds of mica, an...

She’s not what you expected, Alma May Anderson, the last survivor of the Great Sexbot Revolution. Fo...

I glance in the glass wall's reflection. It faces me twenty feet away as I walk up the stairs, marbl...

Waking up, as always, is disorienting. His mind insists that it's only been a moment since the sting...

"You're not exactly what I expected when my mother said she'd found a shadchen." Miss Berazazz could...

Constructing a believable, habitable universe is one of the first things a writer of speculative fic...