|“This Is Not a Metaphor” by Christie Yant
What I mean is what I say: I am cursed, cursed to isolation from every living soul, to clogged drains and high gas prices; cursed to see only the ugly and cruel in the world. What I mean is that, due to powerful sorcery, I am able to see and feel only the anguish of endless night.
|“Remembering the Days That Hurt Us” by Crystal Lynn Hilbert
Here, a man seated at a table in the corner. Three heavy glasses — ale nesting the bottoms. His leg jogs away without him and uneven, the table rocks. The light behind his unseeing eyes throbs, swelling out his corners in time to the heartbeat of the sky.
|“Necronaut” by Corey Mariani
I’ve avoided interstellar body-hopping my whole life. Every time the studio wanted to send me somewhere, I refused. Now they won’t renew my contract unless I go to Hathor. They show me pictures of the vessel waiting for me there. He’s a tall, muscular man with a well-defined jawline, indicating mainstream appeal.
|“The October Witch” by Francesca Forrest
Mountain road, night coming on, but Josh doesn’t slow down. He’s a good driver, used to all sorts of roads in all sorts of conditions. But the car, as if it has its own opinions on the road and the evening, slows to a gravelly stop.
|“Wetwork” by Brendan Detzner
In a funny way, the rain had brought people together. The sound was there, everywhere you went, and even if you blocked it out with earplugs or loud music you could still feel the moisture, the chill in the air, the weird feeling in your knees and your elbows. It could drive you crazy if you didn’t have a distraction.
|“How I Found My One True Love and Saved the World from Ruin” by Russ Colson
The man in Grecian robes stood just past the street curb, his sandals hovering a few inches above the grass. “Good day, Mr. Mosely,” he said. “We have a job for you.”
|“Before the Blood” by T.D. Edge
Still, the blood-driven memories rip through my mind; so I leave the bed, put on my one set of Earth clothes and go down to the hotel bar.