The last signs of the living were recorded eighty-two days and seventeen hours ago—a glove hand pressed on the glass panel of Ameo’s west wing exit; a pulse rate of ninety-four; mild case of eosinophilia—yes, that’s how I remember her. There were no protocols administered. No imperatives. Macau’s voice is barely audible when she whispers … Continue reading Postcards from Heaven by Artyv K
Realize. It may take time to find a starfish on Omnalik Beach. You’ve seen the holos of that halfway land between Mare Estrellas and the Unyielding Void, but they do not do justice to the glittering diamond dust of the shore, or capture the dullness of the creatures’ outer cover. They are living blind spots; … Continue reading So You Want to Eat an Omnalik Starfish by Brian Hugenbruch
I have been a bad mother. Not in the literal sense. But in the important sense. For many years, I think that I have evaded being any kind of mother. I have only a cat. But somewhere in the body, the part that wakes up in the middle of the night and spits in my … Continue reading A Good Mother by E.I. Richardson
I got the message that you are dead, and on your way out to me. I know. You wanted it to be a surprise. But Marcie continues to send me regular updates about everything you say and do. Or by now, I guess, everything you said and did. Marcie is, well, Marcie. I admit, even … Continue reading The Dust That Falls Between the Light by Mari Ness
The cat scratches at the back door; time for his late-night feeding. Trouble is, Remy’s been dead for three months. I open the door but there he is, yellow eyes blinking, pink triangle of a mouth open in a silent miaow. He weaves about my legs with a purr, lighter than a breeze, and disappears. … Continue reading Where I Cannot Catch Mice by Victoria Feistner
I see it in the cold store, between the bags of Chips Oman and the cans of Vimto. A djinn. Or its face, anyway. While I watch, the eyes puddle outward, elongating, retreating. It looks like it is about to cry. From behind the register, beneath the flickering fluorescent light, Sinjin clears his throat. I … Continue reading Cold Store Vision by Natasha Burge
I once visited a home where brambles had grown so high that they drank all the light before it even touched the walls. I’d left my keys out front, in the van full of dry ice and slabs of meat with its slow-growing retinue of flies. When I knocked, the door fell open instantly, like … Continue reading Upon What Soil They Fed by Jennifer Mace
The first and last time I was truly in love, Aphrodite held a golden apple in her hand. A moment earlier, I had been herding my father’s cattle on the slopes of Mount Ida: watching those dirty, smelly, lowing beasts dip their shaggy chins in the ice-cold water of the spring. Another moment further on … Continue reading Paris in Love by M. Bennardo
They say the fires won’t reach us, that the roll of desert has been burned so bad for so long that there’s nothing left on which they could travel. The ground is beyond dust. What’s left is something powder-thin that we breathe in and breathe in, and hear grinding the motors of our salvaged cars, … Continue reading The Fires by Jessie Ulmer
Two brothers scooched down a narrow lane and slumped breathlessly against an adobe embankment. Their backs, slick with sweat, instantly caked in reddish loam. “Shhh,” whispered the older one. “It’s about to begin.” And as sure as the fulgent moon shone in the night sky, there began a quiet humming from behind the clay … Continue reading The Button-Seller’s Tongue by Joanna Galbraith