Posts Tagged "short fiction"

The House in Winter

by on Oct 7, 2014 in Short Fiction | 7 comments

There is a presence in completely dark rooms — even rooms in ordinary houses — a sense of certainty that someone else is there. It fills all the space where you are not. It wraps long arms around you and whispers in your ear. It lets you know without a doubt that this house in the dark is not yours. I know this house is not mine. This story is not mine. Winter has come, and three days ago all the mirrors in the house stopped reflecting my face. The snow is falling. Frost draws illusory cracks on the windows and reflects the glow of candles. I can feel the house’s hunger growing in my belly, sharp as the corners of the sickle moon. Winter is the hungry season. Nothing...

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Coins for Their Eyes

by on Oct 7, 2014 in Short Fiction | 1 comment

I opened a door and walked through. § Eyebrows are the hardest part. Lips are comparatively easy and forgiving of a bit of asymmetry. Cheek and body blushing, if it’s subtle, is similar. But eyebrows require me to start with the finest possible lines with the pastels. They don’t have to be exactly the same — how many have I sent out into the world with one brow lifted, as if they were sardonically puzzled? — but they do have to be somewhat similar in depth and thickness to be believable. Eyes, too, are difficult, even though I merely install those instead of paint and pastel them. It’s the gaze, you see. They have to be canted at similar but not identical angles, or...

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Primrose or Return to Il’maril

by on Oct 7, 2014 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

A chapter from the unfinished memoir of Virginia Booth, noted xenoanthropologist and novelist, London, Earth (b. 2345–d. 2474).   “I will not leave this cavern,” the voice said as soon as I stepped into the cave mouth. A baritone decaying into vibrato, an old man’s voice, full of dignity and pride. I tried to pinpoint its source, but the air was thick with fog. The haze seemed to originate from inside the chamber, where a mysterious current of cold wind blew from underground. All around me, where the vapour met the pink light, it glowed, the colour of the primrose buds in my terrarium back home. The thought of missing them in full bloom this year, pricked at me....

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Jupiter and Gentian

by on Aug 4, 2014 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

Gen walked on the endless, oscillating sea of liquid metal hydrogen and tried, tried to keep her consciousness together. The knight who followed her into the atmosphere, swam through the outer sea of hydrogen with her, he was here too. His armor defied the pressure, his banner defied the heat, and his hands, deep within the boiling, rolling mass of Jupiter. He stood beside a tree that constantly remade itself as it burned and crumpled. “What is higher?” he asked. Like the tree, Gen was continually remaking herself, atom by atom, impulse by impulse, against the continuous roar of the planet. Over and over, she practiced her married signature in a burning diary. She swam....

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Courtship in the Country of Machine–Gods

by on Jul 1, 2014 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

PLEASE ENJOY THE FOLLOWING NOVELETTE Courtship in the Country of Machine–Gods by Benjanun Sriduangkaew Featured in The Apex Book of World SF 3 edited by Lavie Tidhar An Apex Publications Book! One of the most exciting young writers of speculative fiction working today, Thai author Benjanun Sriduangkaew exploded onto the scene in 2012 with a string of high–profile novelettes, of which this lyrical tale is one. In the shadow of machine–gods I tell wayfarers of a time when my people were a nightmare the color of hemorrhage and glinting teeth. There are other narratives, but this is the one they want to hear most, the one they pay with their adoration and bright–eyed want,...

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