Category Archives: Fiction

“The Rare Earth War” by C.R. Hodges Daughter Wingtips resting on an heirloom drafting table that had served as his desk for decades, Bo Wainwright paged through a print version of the Journal of Rare Earth Mining. Took his mind … Continue reading →

“Miyajima” by Paul Carlson Trees dripped in the mist, along a verdant hillside covered in pine and maple and camellia. A colorful pagoda, serene and untended, watched over slow centuries of change in the village below. Faintly visible across the … Continue reading →

“Small Step” by Larry Hodges “I want that one!” Divid had signaled, pointing a tendril at the glowing dot. It was two hundred thousand years ago, shortly after they’d retired with just enough money saved to buy a developing universe. … Continue reading →

“A Vine Entwines Them” by Geoff Gander Hyrmor pressed the point of his father’s blade against the bound witch’s throat, his face a taut mask of calm. “Dilana, Witch of Lhamar, do you yield your lands to me?” His bloodied … Continue reading →

“A Bier of Bloody Roses” Kit Harding The roses were in her throat again. She coughed, and they fell from her mouth to splatter against the white marble of the bathroom floor. Jackson Pollock in bloody flower petals; this was … Continue reading →

“The Frost Giants of Maine” by Jeff Reynolds Someone should have told George Simpson it was a mistake to purchase a property in Maine in autumn after the frost giants had left, migrating north to their winter homes. But the … Continue reading →

“Shoes for Little Sap” by Evan A Davis The owl was the first thing I saw when I woke up. She must have been watching me sleep, because she was looking at me too. She didn’t stir, just calmly picked … Continue reading →

“Flash Of Brilliance” by Mark Murata Tayla walked down a corridor on deck 1, ignoring the burnt smell of overloaded wiring and circuits that sparked the flight-or-fight part of her brain. Her fingers jittered. But she had to let the … Continue reading →

“Daring” by Victoria Zelvin Her fingers hover over the keyboard, touching but not pressing. In the dark of her cabin the white of her screen burns. Fingers over the M and E. Shifting a little bit, ready to hit the … Continue reading →

“The Midnight Commuter” by Tammy Komoff Shadows passed over dark fields and pastures, through woods and across frozen dirt roads, slowly descending on the Oakfield train depot that lay on the outskirts of the village. The depot appeared a safe … Continue reading →