They say there ain’t no sound quite so terrifying as a collapsing Rust mine. From how the older Extractors tell it, the worst of it ain’t the rumble of Martian rock and mud all around you, but the silence afterward. Today I found out for myself. I felt it […]
I saw her as soon as I materialized in Golden Gate Park. She lounged on a blanket, waiting for the Jefferson Airplane concert. The crown of dandelions adorning her hair seemed familiar somehow. She turned toward me, perhaps sensing my stare—and I swayed on my feet, knocked dizzy by a rush of déjà
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When the monsoon failed to arrive that year, the people of Ghoshpara began to mutter beneath their breath that someone had stolen the clouds. The ponds cracked into mirror-shards, the frogs turned mute, and the banana leaves drooped like weary hands. Only one person seemed untouched by the heat: little Mita, who walked
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Soren was only a boy when I met him, a boy lost in the Forest of Souls. Princess Savine had taken me there, her newest pikka, to remind me of what happened to handmaidens who displeased her. Her skin was as dusky and golden as the marigolds strewn across the royal table, for on these
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My current mess started the day I opened my email to find an unusual subject line in one of the headers. Your Payment to Middle Earth Has Been Accepted. Brutus, my purebred Labradoodle mutt, lifted his head from where he’d set it on my knee, his golden ears twitching.
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I died on a Tuesday, which wasn’t nearly as inconvenient as dying again on Thursday. The first death was clinical—heart stopped for six minutes during a valve replacement. But death, like most bureaucracies, has loopholes. The surgeons pulled me back and sent me home with blood thinners and instructions to “take
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Writers generally detest absence. Thus, we rush to explain what we believe readers need to know. But what if we give our audience just the right information and trust them to infer meaning? Worldbuilding through subtext offers a solution for immersive storytelling without spoon-feeding readers. Let’s analyze the mechanics and explore why this approach is
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Limited Series Part 2 I’m gathering dust at my usual booth, taking a break from the midnight bazaar after reuniting the kid with his parents. I contemplate how long I can keep doing this—saving folks—as I chow down on a combo of onion rings and a soggy mushroom Swiss when a kid bolts
Limited Series Part 1 My stall at the midnight bazaar wasn’t hard to find. All you had to do was walk past countless other derelicts pawning family heirlooms or renting themselves out as a companion to talk to. To fuck. To play therapist. The smell of deep-fried illegal meat and contraband cigarette smoke
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Kaiel rocketed into space, his flight invisible in the night. Not quite invisible. A missile, silent in the thinning air, ricocheted off Kaiel’s ship and exploded in a blitz of hot metal. His spacecraft cartwheeled; time trickled to a stop, flattening his life-beat to a halt. His spaceship juddered,