S he seemed to sit on the moon. A waning gibbous, her dress draped over the edge. Although far away, I could see the red of her eyes, crusted and tight from crying, and her mouth gaping a hole of perpetual wail. I bowed to her warning, for I’d been expecting her. […]
For Whom the Banshee Wails Read More »
H e moans Samyukta, Samyukta—your given name—with a lazy oomph. You halt, squint, your body crouched over him stiffens, and the frenzy between the four entwined palms dampens. “What’s wrong?” he asks as if nothing has happened. You don’t know yet. You’re in a wormhole, about to enter a different world,
Call Me By Your Love Name Read More »
D ecember 19th. Her birthday. Cathy cried softly into her pillow, a copy of the local paper spread out on her bed. The paper was open to the horoscope page, and she’d enclosed the entire paragraph for Sagittarius with a pink heart and highlighted the relationship sentence:
Where are they going? Beyond the sky, behind the moon, To wait for us someday soon. ~Cold War-era children’s lullaby O lena had planned it this way from the beginning, before the Agency had recruited her, before she began tracking the moon’s phases on the dormitory wall, scratching hash marks into
The Revolution of Olena Read More »
I didn’t believe you when you told us the Jellyfish was dying. The bioluminescent glow around Her edges had softened, and the waters around us were getting dimmer. We could once see the creatures patrolling the ocean, the fish and sharks that would eat us if it weren’t for Her protection,
Leaving by Staying Read More »
E very kid on the High Lines knew they weren’t supposed to play on the zeppelin tracks, but that was most of the fun for Diarmid and his brothers. Enough boys had died in the far drop to keep it thrilling. And the high of success was exhilarating enough to keep them coming back.
From Top Peak to Waterside Read More »
i f you had believed in the old tales, you wouldn’t have gone out when the full ice moon rose in a satin sky and shone down milky white, like a blind eye, its silver river reflecting daylight-brilliant across the unblemished snow; no footprints to follow––man nor beast––only a feeling that something uncanny skulked beneath
when the ice moon rises, and the night is strangely bright Read More »
W hen the knock came, Penny had thought it would be insistent and bold. The way she remembered him. Instead, it fluttered, hesitant, against the door like the wings of a broken bird. She might have missed it if she hadn’t been waiting for it. He’d been smart to send a runner ahead to let
M emo to whoever finds this floating hunk of half-chewed junk: You might think it’s odd to come across a wooden capsule adrift in space. You also might think it would be a bad idea to build a spaceship out of that same wood. And you’d be right, but not because
Houston, We Have a Splinter Read More »
Dennis Scriber’s recent activity on BottomsUp: The World’s #1 Beer-Rating App Pure Bliss Milk Stout Authentic West Brewing Co. 3.7/5 Beer rated on Friday, April 19, 5:34 p.m. Thick and creamy with hints of toffee on the back end. Velvety mouthfeel. I drank this one on the bus to the mall. Not many other passengers. Either
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