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Fiction

Onward

The first time Iris craved love, she had recently learned to coax the equits and drive her father’s carriage. With the help of her father’s beasts, she drove a newly matched couple from the Matching Festival to the residence at the edge of town they would call their home. As they departed her carriage, Iris’s […]

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Mulberry and Owl

Content Note: Death of Children   Year of the Âm Dragon, fifth year of the Peaceful Harmony Empress, Great Mulberry Nebula   Thuỷ stood in her cabin in The Goby in the Well, her bots arrayed on her shoulders and clinging to her wrists, and watched the heart of the nebula. There was absolutely nothing […]

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Presque vue

People often spoke about hearing voices: commands, cajoling, or observations made by a chorus of individuals, a collective. But for Sam, it was always just one voice. It had sounded vaguely like her mother’s, and as she fought her way through girlhood and found the certainty and wholeness of identity waiting for her in womanhood, […]

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The Chameleon’s Gloves

Rhehan hated museums, but their partner Liyeusse had done unmentionable things to the ship’s stardrive the last time the two of them had fled the authorities, and the repairs had drained their savings. Which was why Rhehan was on a station too close to the more civilized regions of the dustways, flirting with a tall, […]

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Immortal Coil

[Marlowe] persuades men to Atheism willing them not to be afeard of bugbeares and hobgoblins, and vtterly scorning both god and his ministers Marlowe is going to outlive him. Of this, he is sure. He has seen him on the streets of Blackfriars, of Southwark, in Bladder Lane, near Aldgate… He can pretend to be […]

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The Wishing Pool

Joy nearly got lost on the root-knotted red dirt path off of Highway 99, losing sight of the gaps between the live oaks and Spanish moss that fanned across her hood and windows like fingertips. Driving back to her family’s cabin twenty years later reminded her that the woods had rarely been restful for her. […]

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The Graveyard

This story was told to me by the curator of a historical site in Iceland. I won’t name the site, because the curator might not want the publicity. She was a solid-looking, middle-aged woman with excellent English and an honest appearance. I don’t think she was lying to me, though I can’t be sure. The […]

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Diamond Cuts

The stars were diamond-hard. I reached up and plucked one from the sky. It spat white-hot sparks against my fingertips. I placed it in my mouth and scraped my tongue against its burning edges—it rattled against my teeth. I tasted ozone, iron, blood. I bit down. As it broke, it thrummed both its agony and […]

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