Short Fiction

Short Fiction from issues of Apex Magazine

THE TURING MACHINES OF BABEL

by on Jul 11, 2017 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

7,200 Words In most respects, the universe (which some call the Library) is everywhere the same, and we at the summit are like the rest of you below. Like you, we dwell in a string of hexagonal library chambers connected by hallways that run infinitely east and west. Like you, we revere...

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«Légendaire.»

by on Jul 6, 2017 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

9,400 Words Having seen the reggaezzi perform, the righteous of Sea-john shake their heads in wonder. They will then murmur severally or as one, «Légendaire.»   [Tonight] The cavalcade forms up. In beats, without words, the drummers argue a bass line. While higher registers wait in...

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L’appel du vide

by on Jul 4, 2017 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

5,000 Words The summer sky was stacking dark clouds when Pau trudged up from the concrete gullet of the parkade. Sweat stuck his shirt to the small of his back and the biolocked handle of his Ceylan Industries suitcase was slippery. Looking over the shrunken brown swatches of lawn and...

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Sundown

by on Jun 27, 2017 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

[Colorado, 1877] Willie Kennard rode into the town of Duffy dangerously late, looking back over his shoulder at the height of the sun and squinting. He dropped down from the old mare he’d borrowed off Wilson Hayes and hitched her to a post. Every step shifted two days’ dust and grit off...

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Black Hole Heart

by on Jun 21, 2017 in Short Fiction | 1 comment

1680 Words Translated by Alex Shvartsman. You were thirty-five when you parked your pickup truck in front of that damned diner. A single poor decision that would make you hate yourself for the rest of your life. When you think back to that moment your joints hurt, your bones ache, your...

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Welcome to Astuna

by on Jun 8, 2017 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

3,900 words A millipede wends its way across the grimy ceiling. I stretch out in the bed, let loose a satisfied yawn, and freeze. Where the fuck am I? Off-white walls peek through peeling wallpaper, a cracked mirror rests on a dresser, and the sagging bed has more stains than I care to...

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