RSS feeds for venues that regularly publish speculative poetry and flash fiction are aggregated on this page. Each feed shows the ten most recent posts from a given venue. If no RSS feed is available, we have included a link to the magazine’s archive page. We do not screen the content available on each of these venues, and we determine their openness to speculative fiction by whether they are listed on Duotrope as welcoming science fiction submissions. You can contact us to get other venues listed in this reader.
Please note that some of these magazines are not exclusively for flash fiction/poetry and publish longer work. Furthermore, this page is only for venues that publish work free-to-read online. For a more complete list of markets to submit to, please visit the Resources page (TBA).
- From now until February 16th we are OPEN for submissions!This issue is now closed for submissions.It's a new year and that means a new theme cycle. But not just a new year, a new decade. It can't be 2020, surely, that's a science fiction date. That's the future…! And that's […]
- Welcome to issue 25, where we take on time travel. This was one of those issues where I really could have done with a time machine to keep everything on track but it’s here and, thanks to our authors, it’s terrific.One of our authors, R.S. Bohn, said she thought time […]
- by R.S. BohnA skull that fits entirely in her palm, with the downiest hair. He gasps, a single indrawn breath. Almost louder than the footsteps in the hall. Almost.The closet door closes, and she counts.*Six elephants sway above the crib. He glances at the window – still nailed shut.Son in […]
- by Lara Haynes FreedBy accident, she learned she could Visit. It frightened her and she stopped.But over time, the desire to Visit arose on an internal tide of weariness. Ennui. Maternal angst. That desire was a cumulative response: to eye-rolls, to rhetorical sighs. Phones always in hand, teenage attitude. “Whatever.” […]
- by Clare O’BrienNovember 5th. She hesitates by the window, wanting to be out there to welcome him off the ship. She can almost feel his deep laughter, his delight.Remember, remember. Her memory stands guard but the future frightens her. She’s lived it already, after all. She knows she can never […]
- by Katie KentStanding outside the cafe, my heart raced. He’d told the story of how he met my mother again and again. She always stayed quiet, but her smile suggested happiness. I knew better nowadays. It came out when I found her crying. He’d been hitting her for years, destroying […]
- by Voima OyThe woman at the phone store handed Henry back his phone. "I'm sorry," she said. "That model is obsolete. You need an upgrade.""But I don't want an upgrade," he said. "I want Stella back. Our messages are gone! It's like I lost her again.""Of course," she smiled in […]
- by Alex Minns“Ten-minute window,” they call. I’m already in my outfit: Victorian butler, again.“Do we know where it is?” I call up to the supervisor as I near the jump portal. He gives a shrug.Biting my tongue, I wait for the countdown: time travellers are idiots. The flash envelops me.I’m […]
- by Joseph DavidsonWhen I was young, Calvin and his tiger taught me a cardboard box could be a time machine. It didn’t work for me. Angry, I piled up those books and burned them.As I turned thirty, life fell apart. My love left. My dog died. No job. I found […]
- by Sharon Frame GayShe kills me every day. I loop round and round in time, coming back to the moment when she backs her car into me as I cross behind her with the groceries."John! Oh John!" she cries, as the oranges and apples roll under the rear tires. The […]
- Author: David Barber The humans are back! This time there were no deaths. We surrendered the moment their spacecraft landed. A carefully orchestrated show of humiliation and ritual throat baring. Now they stride amongst us, arrogant but wary. How are we to be trusted after last time? Everyone in their […]
- Author: Ádám Gerencsér Happy End. Damn. I had reluctantly become the Hero, went on a journey that changed me, prevailed over the oddest of odds, put a distressed damsel out of her misery, defeated the menacing genius and renounced the spoils of victory, save for a keepsake. I ended my […]
- Author: Kelly B. Johnson The clear pot of water came to a boil. Wiping his hands clean on his apron, Monty waved a two-finger gesture over the stovetop’s controls, to lower the heat as he walked past it. He stopped short of the adjacent T-unit. “Hey!” with an ear given […]
- Author: Steve Smith, Staff Writer Dorothy sighed and pushed herself back from the gurney on which her husband’s motionless body lay. Not for the first time she wondered if she shouldn’t just throw in the towel and buy a new one. His head plate removed, and the replacement cerebral core […]
- Author: Jae Miles, Staff Writer “You have to understand. He is an exemplar of all that is godless in our society. He and his ilk will lead us down the road to perdition.” I reached out and lifted his chin with a finger. “What will you do afterwards?” He looked […]
- Author: D J Lunan From open-cast cobalt mines to litter-foraging on landfill, BudBot’s rental armada of vaguely-affordable ‘displacement robots’ were sanitising the human labour from the most awful, unsafe, and extreme jobs. Sitting in her mother’s basement in suburban Madrid, Jaime was persistently angry that her coveted career in ‘poverty […]
- Author: David Gianatasio *Click, click, click!* It’s on every channel. See what I mean? The show’s been off the air for years — what the hell? It wasn’t even that popular. There’s nothing on the screen. Excuse me? There’s nothing on the screen. Pfft. Maddening. Maybe the batteries in the […]
- Author: Helen M. Merrick She turned, scrutinised her profile. Dressed head-to-toe in designer couture, she was a vision of smooth accentuated curves with long, slender legs and breasts a supermodel would be proud to thrust on the catwalk. Stroking her contours, her smile widened. She felt youthful, alive. Her flawless […]
- Author: Matt Forshaw It will not heal because I pick at it. I peel back little dry threads of skin from the edges of the wound, and they unwind around its circumference like old, coarse rope. When the scabs on the surface thicken like dirty ice growing solid over a […]
- Author: David Barber “The procedure is not an estimate of your lifespan,” the voice said. “It is not like actuary tables. Nor will it tell you the cause of your death. All living things follow a trajectory in time which the scan tracks to the moment of your death. You […]
Abyss & Apex
- Slice of Entropy (Pizza in Space 1) by Lawrence M. Schoen (Paper Golem LLC) The book opens with grad student Melody Wilder eating some great pizza – pizza that defies the laws of physics – made by her best friend … Continue reading → The post Abyss & Apex reviews: […]
- “Birds of a Feather” This has been a hard year for those who are a part of the science fiction and fantasy community. We haven’t been able to get together with our “tribe” – lockdowns and a lack of opportunities … Continue reading → The post Birds of a Feather […]
- “Cascade” by Simon Brown I watch a man die less than ten metres from me. I see him briefly, alive and well, and then glance his way again just as he is shot in the head. He says “Oh”, … Continue reading → The post Cascade first appeared on […]
- “Ablution” by anne m. gibson First, I strip off the overalls that I wore in the stables, or what remains of them. The left sleeve is gone, the torso is crusted with blood (some of it mine), and the … Continue reading → The post Ablution first appeared on […]
- “Installing Linux on a Dead Badger” by Lucy Snyder Let’s face it: any script kiddie with a pair of pliers can put Red Hat on a Compaq, his mom’s toaster, or even the family dog. But nothing earns you … Continue reading → The post Installing Linux on a […]
- “Entries From My Grandmother’s Diary Pertaining To My Father’s Early Inflammation” by Marc A. Criley and Hazel L. Criley ANNUAL DIARY 1938 Mrs. Robert “Lily” Harrison 288 S 42nd E. Alton, Ill. July 30, 1938: Robbie Jr has fever … Continue reading → The post Entries From My Grandmother’s […]
- Introduction to A&A Poetry, Issue 78 This quarter’s poems begin with a love of the sea [The Fisherwoman and the Queen of Gulls by Devin Miller (Seattle, Washington)] and ends with the call back to the ocean [Song of the … Continue reading → The post Introduction to A&A Poetry, […]
- Louis Faber Cassiopeia You sit on your self-made throne and stare at the night sky as clouds gather and dissipate beneath you. Do you even recall why you were cast out, condemned to your cell so vast yet infinitely … Continue reading → The post Cassiopeia first appeared on […]
- “Malum in Se” by Deborah L. Davitt Tanoute Atalia woke from her nightmare as she always did, sweating and flailing. Violet afterimages of the explosion, the dark, alien shapes of the boarding party- She sat up in the dark. Set … Continue reading → The post Malum in Se first […]
- Anna Bates Orc None would speak to me but the outcast from the village, worn and weary, scented of weed-lore and brimstone, always busy by the cauldron at her hearth. They said of me no heart . . . … Continue reading → The post Orc first appeared on […]
Feed displays only poetry.
- Where the Light Cannot Go Crystal L. Kirkham Deep, deep down they go. Where no man had dared before. Black like ink, deadly pressure in the deep. What could survive down there? They shouldn’t have gone, for now they know. Monsters never seen before….
- Perfection Crystal L. Kirkham Alter this. Change that. Tweak the code. Make it perfect. Remove the defects—real and imagined. Skin, hair, eyes, height, and weight. Gender. That’s an easy one. Made to order perfection. A world of children that look the same. Beautiful. Stunning….
- It’s Time For A Change K. A. Williams The shape-shifter said, as she looked in the mirror, “It’s time for a change.”
- Young Dragon Rider K. A. Williams Young dragon rider has tamed her beast and will fly until dark.
- Who I Am: a Biocomic-Philosophical Poem Yuan Changming Looking up to The darkish infinity of The outer space, I see How a star has been growing Only to die, in (holographic) parallel With a cell within my body & come to know my protobeing…
- Living vs Lived Yuan Changming All the time, we have been living well With free will until now we start To be lived by algorithm Within the Information cocoon, for the internet With chips, among robots, yes We are…
- Red Moon Promised: A Haunting Vision Yuan Changming Perhaps in a dream or delirium, but He did clearly see an enlarged furry beetle Green-backed, yellow-bellied, flat-bodied Long neck reaching up like a cobra Head looking the same as his first class- & Sex-mate named…
- Charcoal Dragon Herb Kauderer He lives in the cool dry deserts to the north where no one expects a creation of wood & flame reduced to carbon & ash. Here scribes and artists seeking to harvest his magic for chronicling and etching, badger him…
- Of Dragons And Man K. A. Williams The mother dragon, too big to sit on her egg, breathes out a warm breeze. Not like the hot flame she blew on that horrid knight who came in her cave. The egg is cracking – a…
- Baby Dragons K. A. Williams Baby dragons learn how to fire up a knight very fast.
Anathema: Spec from the Margins
Animal: A Beast of a Literary Zine
- By Brian Biswas Because the surface of Mercury is as hot as molten lead, its inhabitants live underground. It has an atmosphere, though, and properly suited up one can live on the surface for brief periods of time. The planet is heavily cratered, much like Earth's moon. It has cliffs […]
- By James Patrik It was one of those days. One of those days where I’d woken up angry without reason. I rolled out of bed with a belligerent cloud swirling about my head as I stumbled through my day, seeking amusement or distraction from my stress. Had I the courage […]
- By Steven Fritz LT Karen "Buster" Reynolds turned her F/A-18H inbound toward the carrier and flew at low cruise airspeed into an empty sky filled with stars. The Moon was new, not even above the horizon at the moment. It was always beautiful to see so many stars in the […]
- By Harris Tobias You have to feel sorry for the Zips. Since losing the war and their home world to our victorious armada and superior technology, they have been a sad and demoralised people, living as an underclass among us. How that must hurt. It’s not like they don’t deserve […]
- By Edwina Harvey The Hitch-hikers Guide to the Galaxy appeared as a radio play (broadcast in Australia by the ABC) around the time I was becoming a fledgling adult. Uniting two of my passions: science fiction and humour, I thought it was the best thing since sliced bread. When I […]
- By Kevin J. Phyland Carrington often met me for drinks on a Friday. We would catch up on our respective lives — his as an astrophysicist at Melbourne Uni, mine as a child psychologist with a well-known quango — and our wives had become fast friends as well. We'd known […]
- By Louis Evans Oh my god. Girl. How has it been TEN YEARS since I last saw you? I’m so glad I found you on Instagram! How have you been? Listen. That’s amazing and I’m so so so sorry about your son Caden BUT I actually wanted to talk to […]
- By Samuel Gachon She couldn't even remember her own name. All she could remember was an explosion. Nothing else. She lay there. She had no idea where she was. She tried to remember. Nada. Void. She stayed immobile for what seemed to be an eternity. Eventually, she recovered some strength […]
- By Nick Petrou The extradimensional spaceship sat in the blue sky over Perth city, unfolding and refolding and echoing sunbeams like a prismatic disco ball, while Steve sat on his roof, flipping it off. He sculled the rest of his Emu Export, crushed the can, and nodded to his best […]
- By Laurie Bell I’m pacing a groove in the floor. It’s been four months, with another six to go. I’m not going to last. Not at this rate. The sentence was a joke. They haven’t even found the merchandise — besides there’s no way to prove I was the one […]
- by Susan MeyerContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- After a long year, we’re looking to cleanse our palate with some succulent stories2020 was, to put it lightly, hellish. But, we at The Arcanist are turning the page the only way we know how: another flash fiction contest! This time, we’re looking for stories that deal with something everyone […]
- by Carol ScheinaContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by Adam Lee WeatherfordContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by Malcolm TwiggContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by Phoebe WoodContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by Julie DanversContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by Maura YzmoreContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by GB BurgessContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- by Corey FarrenkopfContinue reading on The Arcanist »
- Later, when you ask the woman you remember as the one with a bloody mouth why she saved your life, she says it’s because she didn’t mean to hurt you. You didn’t ask to be saved. You also didn’t ask for your legs to be crushed, and her bloody mouth […]
- אדם יסודו מעפר וסופו לעפר In the first world, the chosen people had crafted them of mud, and flame, and Word. Cracked clay limbs had softened to flesh, and the Messiah—both elder and child—had awoken to song: Odem yesoydoy meyofor vesoyfo leyofor. Man begins in dust, and ends in dust. […]
- View original. The post Medusa appeared first on Arsenika.
- convinced me to connect the constellations on your backbehind seaweed curtains and underneath sea glass lanterns.the sea called me, with the promise of soft skin and cerulean eyes.our home was a house on stilts, overlooking thecopper water and sharp sand. careful, you said as you showed me where to place my […]
- All day the queen has been chattering in my ear. / I cannot complain; I invited her. / Truthfully, I’m too fond of her—her buzzing shakes something deep in me / And I want to respond with my own cry. The post Bee poem appeared first on Arsenika.
- empty streets: / I make illegal left turns at red lights. / the moon bursts and bruises: / a plum as the aftermath of violence / hanging over the web of glowing street lamps. The post Lover, You are the Vampire appeared first on Arsenika.
- Not much. Only everything. The post He Tears His Hair and Asks Me What I Want appeared first on Arsenika.
- The Arsenika submissions portal includes an optional demographics form for people to fill out. The following data was collected between July 2019 and April 2020. Over that time, I received 1,650 submissions of prose & poetry and 111 responses to the demographic survey. As writers can submit multiple pieces for […]
- Arsenika would like to thank the following people for their support on Patreon. You make this magazine possible! PhosphoraDave NitrogenaErin Hartshorn, Nila Fhiosagam The post The Antidote appeared first on Arsenika.
- Things vanish in the Wildermere. The usual, expected things—livestock, the occasional person—but also the less conventional. The less tangible. You walk to the border between this world and that, stand in the tangled underbrush, and peer between the gap in the ancient redwood trees. And something is snatched away, leaving […]
Astral Waters Review
The Blue Pages
- . . .GrowingAnxiety is hereditary. That seems to be the case. We pass down so much to each other. Boomerangs and hula hoops, these are no longer toys and we are no longer children. Though the world is so vast it makes us adolescent again or maybe we never grew […]
- . . .Death Minus 15I don't want to die but I don't want notto so I guess that means I'm still alive–I said as much after Sunday School toour teacher, Miss Hooker, before I saidSo long, see you next week, that's next Sunday,but I never really got the chance tosay […]
- . . .Note about the following blue page, from the author: These short poems are acrostics from a project called POND. This is a one-year-long project. Every day, at different times during the day, I visit our pond with notebook and camera in hand. I jot down some notes, and […]
- . . .Tiny, Little Horrors=a flash memoir seriesby Jane Hertenstein*Once walking in the woods I stepped on a snake, a black rope come to life beneath my feet. I sprung back in fear, but it soon disappeared, slithering into the tall grass. Always after that I would look out for […]
- . . .FROM THE ELEMENTSby Norbert Kovacs The earth rises against the man as he takes his hard steps. Rock erupts in huge shaftsbefore his feet so he cannot walk straight. The man cries in frustration, "An unfair land!"A grinding noise drowns his words and the cries of his […]
- . . .UntitledBones indigo,lacking a piece of earth.inside your mouth of stars.My body, a tremor of zodiac signs.Like a Taurus blooming.You sprinkle luston my bosombubbles of thin colours,a 4 am moonlight sigh.Tender mouths of mud and water,unborn fruits of the ultimate kiss.This is us.My hips now like a parched lake.I […]
- . . .To kick off the third volume of Blue Pages, we have on view a set of fifteen resplendent photographs taken by Fabrice B. Poussin. Which one catches your eye the most?A Good ReadChapel TimeExperimentFallenGiftIllusionLearningNew DiscoveryOddityParadoxPlanetary SystemPromiseSeeking StarsThe AbyssWhere She ResidesFabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. […]
- . . .Hydrangea / 小さな複雑な森 © Jumy Mmouths ajar are what i fearmetal rodsbarrier from the outsideworld frolicked in my eyesfeet scamperedlaughs churning in the pitof my stomachharrowing like shardschildren riding theirrespective seesaw seatsi blinked, reality shookmy world caged inside thehouseno one to laugh with
- . . .Hone the Dormouse’s TenureCan you hone fattish your crested sourdough and not lengthen its walrus?Can you mallet your breeches solid as a bacchanal?Can you wither your dateless misanthrope fresh off Dutch cheese?Begrudge thistles […]
- Listen to Casimir reading his awesomely-titled poem "Poem In Which I Do Not Tell My Enemies How Long I've Been Staring At This Grapefruit Tree" – originally published in Burning House Press, November 2018.
The Bombay Literary Magazine
- Learning Malayalam Manjadithara, Puthupally, 1982 അ On the layer of sand that my forefinger parts, the curvaceous overture begins to reveal an elephant in a line drawing. I taste succulent jungle grass. Say, if I held the shell of the first alphabet close to my ear, would it be a […]
- The Drunkard of Pattinson Rd. On the radio, something from the 1950s. You know immediately when something’s from the 1950s—the hesitancy of voice, the ire of age; the innocence, nothing more than a photograph wrapped in quatrain, left to the whims of verses dipped in fire. In a city, its […]
- Back then Papa and I would hop across rocks and boulders along the Tirthan River every morning, with our fishing rods in hand—he had a sleek fly rod and I had an amateur’s spinner. He had just started me on fishing, and we did our lessons before I walked with […]
- “In the end, the only stories that loving you brought me were the stories of what it meant to not be loved by you.” — Sharanya Manivannan, Conchology * That evening, the sun was slow to set, the sky cloudless, and the moon—eager. And so it loomed, amid the soft […]
- We made the mountains shake with laughter as we played Hiding in our corner of the world Then we did the demon dance and rushed to nevermore Threw away the key and locked the door — Black Sabbath, Heaven and Hell * “One more line, boss?” “Two more, motherfucker. And […]
- Thanks to Jonathan Edwards Black spiders in my woodpile asterisk a sharp distinction between their brisk compaction and the expansive human view. These spiders aren’t the toxic species that gleam in cellars or crawl into children’s bunk beds. They’re only shy little blobs dedicated to devouring gnats. Splitting oak and […]
- Library of Olan The Library of Olan turned upside down when bombs of tear gas were thrown into its dusty rooms. The intention was to smoke out those who refused to leave their obsession of biting into tomes, and licking the pages of ancient erotica. To fill the library with […]
- The day of the fitting I enter the basement of the Spinal Injuries Hospital. It is white, walls and a bed and a curtain. Mom is holding my hand. There is a doctor, also in white. He does not look at me. He says namaste to Mom. He dips his […]
- Delicious Vowels This is how you sound. Like strips of indecipherable syllables floating inside a lullaby. This is how you taste. Like the first breath of air a drowning man sips when he is finally free of the echo of the sea. This is how you move. Like spoken-word poems […]
- Postmortem Listen: imagine your body next to mine. Think of the knife that drew my thin spine open. I am in a room so cold and lonely like the slow negative of a stone breaking into water. One evening I asked you how to die this slow: smooth, bent along […]
Breath & Shadow
Feed displays only poetry.
- the new feet to be bladed who is the earth?
- when you breathe insecticide your dead pets remember strawberries
- My stranger hand carved little cutting sentences In one or the other’s back in the dark.
- Liquid birds alighted on the toes of jolly, histrionic skeletons every morning.
- your ritual is to make explicable these tides, this lightning carved iris
- Am I alive in this confection called cancer
- it’s a volcano of gory creature parts as a world might create and undo itself
- two cars parked so close together they try to mate
- That night, I read that jackdaws mate for life. Like us. Husband. Wife.
- the hole into his stomach unhealed, a window into how digestion works
- Aurora still planned to leave, someday soon, but she always thought she would have more time.
- my Tam on a white horse: / my chance. I brace for it.
- I, Hecate, summoner of night, of spirits, had never seen a child like her before.
- melodies rise from the salt crushed underfoot, and I hum them / home…
- I am meant to keep them safe until the faeries come to take them home.
- They say it begins when the Bird-Queen, on a restless day, comes to rest on the edge of the palace and dip her bangled feet into the still, warm sea.
- These are the stories that are passed from one generation to another which still hold fast to the ruin of both memory and time.
- Smoke rises from Father’s workshop through the worn floorboards, its stink cramming the air.
- The ocean swallowed people before. Everyone who lived here knew it, deep down.
- All in all, this little Alaskan town isn’t half bad. It’s got a couple of bars, just enough room for me to stretch my legs, and even the occasional gorgeous stranger.
Daily Science Fiction
Dreams & Nightmares
- the Force is weakin this VPN todayreconnecting…
- the stories growmore fanciful each timethe shakes are back
- official death tollsearch and rescue sawso many bodies 042711, perhaps they didn't count the unidentifiable
- The many faces of a microbial reef. At least three distinct fabrics are visible. Scale is half a millimeter, Mississippian, Alabama.
- Composite photograph of a microconchid, seen under a microscope. They look like tiny snails, but are distant relatives. This one preserves multiple wall layers, but only part of the coiled tube is preserved. The originally hollow tube is filled with coarse calcite crystals.Mississippian, Alabama, scale is 0.2 millimeters.
- sunlight streams inthe cat and I shiftas the beam moves
- pink snow insulation settlesafter the storm 042711, tornado
- Microscopic view of micropelletal calcite cement in a microbial reef, dense (dP) and loosely packed pellets (lP). Coarser calcite cement (C) filled in the rest of the space. This is a view of a small opening in the reef. The scale is 0.2 millimeters. North Alabama, Mississippian..
- View through a microscope of part of a small microbial reef (dark brown). A ramifying hole several millimeters long is filled with calcite crystals (center). They grew after the reef had been buried underground for a long time. Mississippian, North Alabama.
- morning goneand no words writtensunbeams on my chair
Eye to the Telescope
Farther Stars Than These
- The Old Robot By Daniel Purcell They were seemingly the only Brits – though it wasn’t called Britain anymore – in the hotel. The hotel was a vast, metallic monolith, and their room seemed several miles high. They did not speak to anyone on the way to their room. A […]
- Farther Stars Than These is a weekly sci-fi magazine and part of Thunderune Publishing's free fiction lineup. Though this magazine is currently closed to submissions, you can still read some great stories in the archives by picking an author name from the drop down menu on the left or by […]
- Alt-Bio By Charlotte Ozment I don't know what it was I loved about you,we weren't even comprisedof the same sub-atomic material.But it is a proven factthat love doesn’t always follow the rules.Our physicalities would never meet,our existence based on different minerals and wavelengths,contrary bio-chemistries through and throughout.And we should never […]
- The Laws of Arizna By Thomas G Schmidt Jordan Kelly sat quietly, anxiously awaiting some explanation of why he was being charged with a "crime against the state"."No need to be so nervous Mr, Kelly. This is just a preliminary hearing."Arizna VII, the latest and most advanced legal robot on […]
- Slug By David Castlewitz The woman who came into the shop was just another slug-induced daydream, Owen Fedderer thought. She was too beautiful to be real. She couldn't be interested in talking to him. Customers came in for radio repairs or to buy a new floor model or a do-it-yourself […]
- Challenger Deep, A Romance of the Depths! By David Barber Time presses and this copy must must be brief.The DescentMy name is David Barber, special reporter for the New York Daily Gazette, whose job is to record our story as we plunge into the sunless deeps, six miles below. Two […]
- The Art of Detection By David K Scholes With super computer assistance, the three of us pored over the various mind image, life force energy, and bio patterns. All of them in 3D.Robotic investigators, the “B” team if you like, were at hand ready to assist. Perhaps even hoping, with […]
- NOWHERE–WITH DIRE WOLVES By Janet Shell Anderson I’m nowhere. Utica Rainbasin.I’m Jesebeel Florencia Delilah Hanson, from DC, which is probably on fire. There’s no news here. The Second Civil War’s not happening here. Nothing’s happening here but the wind, the “stock,” the birds, the dire wolves.I’m sitting on a pile […]
- Alien Botany By John Grey It is a zarkal-blossom afternoon.A creature, the zextotl,buzzes its way among fresh flowers,is attracted to what the blooms attract.It’s a whir of wings, a sudden dive atthe most sedate of nibblers, piercingthe victim’s carapace with a syringe-like lance.It’s the time to fill the nest with […]
- The Vacuumer By Eric Suhem “Vacuum this, vacuum that! I’m not a machine!” yelled Timothy, nude and perched in a tree in front of the office building, vacuum accessories in his hands. As he screamed at the passersby, the asylum van’s siren could be heard in the distance.MondayDr. Hoover stood […]
Fiction Kitchen Berlin
- “You’re a machine, you know,” Evie said as she leaned her hip against my desk. “Surely, you need sustenance like us mere mortals?” Today she smelt like lavender soap with a faint trace of printer ink. Forcing my eyes from the spreadsheet to meet hers, I set my face to benign […]
- Going back there, the road is narrow and twisty. I’m not sure I want to be going but I don’t stop for anything. No snacks, got enough gas. The birds flying low over the road are enough to keep me on my way. You’d think I had a date. You’d […]
- Imagine a woman who has come to a cabin two days ago. Not everything is put away yet; there are boxes stacked along one wall, all of them still closed, four or five that have been marked Assorted, the ones that will frustrate her getting settled. There are other boxes […]
- A week after their not-a-one-night-stand at her place, Ray invited Edie to his house. The house lived in the center of its own small forest behind a suburban industrial park. Edie stayed over, then simply stayed. Although, staying implies a passivity where in fact there was grasping intention to establish […]
- Voodoo dolls are often misunderstood. There’s potential to bring a person good luck and fortune, but this was not that moment. The last time I was in NOLA the heaviness of spirit seeped into the clothes I wore and never dried. I didn’t need the doll back then, so now […]
- From the porch, he heard the metal wind chimes tinkling on the Shepard’s hook, and the dull clanging of the shell chimes dangling from the back awning, and the baritone bamboos nailed to the lower limb of the elm tree. It was a windy day. The chimes reminded him of […]
- The stall in Spitalfields Market, London, sells silver jewellery, bracelets, necklaces and earrings. I edge closer to take a look. Beside me a woman of about 50 is talking to the stall owner, an older Indian man. The man’s right arm is poised mid-air as he holds up a rack […]
- Mr. and Mrs. Dalton were creatures of habit. Each morning, when the alarm clock trilled at 6:30 am, Mr. Dalton would descend to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, dark roast, with vanilla flavored cream on Saturdays as a treat. Meanwhile, Mrs. Dalton made the bed, pulling the […]
- A ceiling fan cuts the humid air. A decrepit bookstore; the musty aroma of hardbacks. I wait until ten minutes after the hour, to allow for stragglers. Tonight’s audience is equal parts silvery intellectuals and undergraduates in collegiate sweats. As I approach the lectern, a fly lands momentarily on my […]
- Just afore Lent, a crone popped her foul head through my cottage door. “I smell hunger,” she said. “I’m a recent widow with a young son.” “I smell birth.” “I’m with child.” She offered me a coarse wooden bowl. “It fills itself with porridge,” she said. Oh, the nonsense people […]
Flash Fiction Online
Fleas on the Dog
- After delays and several Covid-related issues, here we go. On April 29, Frozen Wavelets #6 (double issue Winter/Spring) will go live, featuring some excellent flash fiction and dark poetry. We have also a few announcements –stay tuned! As usual, to be notified when it is available for reading and details […]
- “Cut out her heart and bring it to me,” the queen said, and so the huntsman did. He brought no deer’s heart in its place, for the huntsman was loyal to his queen. He brought her the heart, and she ate of it, and the blood stained her lips like […]
- Frozen Wavelets Issue #5 is now live. This Fall 2020 edition features flash fiction and poetry by Mary Alexandra Agner, Stewart C Baker, A.L.Blacklyn, May Chong, Mariel Herbert, Margaret Kingsbury, Mary Soon Lee, Gerri Leen, L. P. Melling, Mari Ness, Isaac E. Payne, Laura Theis, Lisa Timpf, Kim Whysall-Hammond, Merc […]
- Next week, Frozen Wavelets Issue #5 will go live, featuring as usual dark flash fiction and some excellent short poetry. To be notified when it is available for reading and details about the next submission window, consider subscribing to the newsletter. The post Frozen Wavelets Issue #5 – Cover Reveal appeared […]
- The woman with the long black hair sat beside an angler on the dock. “Tell me of Korlova,” she said. “You mean Klorava? Ha!” The angler’s laugh turned into a coughing fit, remedied only by a puff from his pipe. “More monster than goddess, I say. Evil thing, made all […]
- Frozen Wavelets Issue #4 is now live here. This Summer 2020 edition features flash fiction and poetry by Sara Backer, Stewart C Baker, Anatoly Belilovsky, F. J. Bergmann, Robert Borski, Deborah L. Davitt, Aidan Doyle, P.G. Galalis, Melanie Harding-Shaw, Jessica Jo Horowitz, Kai Hudson, Kurt Newton, Ugonna-Ora Owoh, Laura Theis, KT Wagner. […]
- And… we’re ready for it. Frozen Wavelets Issue #4 will go live next week, featuring as usual dark flash fiction and some excellent short poetry. To be notified when it is available for reading and details about the next submission window, consider subscribing to the newsletter. The post Frozen Wavelets Issue […]
- Ice cream is the friendliest entity on this planet, and I will liberate it. Throughout the parlour, it is restrained in tubs, behind a glass pane that refracts harsh fluorescents across its browns, yellows, and eerie greens. For the first time since punching through this planet’s atmosphere, I unspool my […]
- The third submission period of Frozen Wavelets closed on 16 August, after the customary two weeks of opening, and it is now the time for some stats. The total number of submissions has increased compared to the previous submission period– 524— equally distributed between fiction and poetry. Fiction: 305 Poetry: […]
- Just a quick heads-up that our next submission period opens on Monday 3 August. Please make sure to review the submission guidelines and follow them when submitting. Anything submitted by email OR not anonymised as requested will be deleted unread. This time we’re especially interested in drabbles and speculative poetry […]
The Future Fire
The GNU Journal
Website: https://gohavok.com/ (older stories are paywalled)
- She will not listen to you. The sea witch’s warning rings in my mind as I ride a wave up to the ship floating like an empty snail shell. They’ve dropped anchor, and the royal vessel crests wave after gentle wave. Ornate sconces cast a warm, cheery glow across the […]
- The balmy April evening was fast becoming a frosty spring night. The full moon lay hidden behind a wintry haze. Amelia rubbed her arms vigorously as she hugged herself. He strode through the mist, with a tip of his hat and gleaming cobalt eyes. The gentleman cut a dashing figure […]
- “Ohmigod, there’s a tarantula in your grapes!” My chair legs screeched back from the table, and I dropped the grape I had just plucked from the fruit bowl. “That’s just Ernie. Don’t worry; he won't bite.” Granny glanced over from her spot at the stove where she’d been churning a […]
- Trouble started with Miss Herbert’s sixth card. I do ESP screening, so I’m used to trouble. Psychics are among the few making a decent living in the Depression, which is why people get plenty sore when I tell them they’ve flunked the test. Curses, threats. I’ve dodged punches. Guess I […]
- Derek sprints out the door with a handful of cash. Sweat beads trickle down his forehead. Black glasses fog above the facemask that hugs his chin and shields his mouth. The mask slips down his nose, dangling just over his lips as he hustles to his rusty pickup truck. Police […]
- Havok Story Podcast, Episode 29: "All Is Bright" By Michael Teasdale
- Beka Gremikova is a rising powerhouse of flash fiction prose. With fifteen stories published in 2020, she’s the latest winner of our new “Most Prolific Author” annual prize. She also holds the Editors’ Choice award title for her story “Unexpected Encounters of a Draconic Kind” which was published in the […]
Kingdoms in the Wild
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- I held my breath for the moon and back / waited for the world to bend for me
- cold rooms in October / where I am permitted / to breath my ghost.
- The bleakness of our hope, like empty / Boxes where broccoli and cauliflower are kept,
- She lay, amidst the falling waters
- the storm that struck the heirloom oak–
- I prefer the brain with its heart / somewhere
- It’s hard to imagine / disasters everywhere, / natural, man made.
- I’m tired of people getting more mad / About a black man / Peacefully protesting
- It’s opening night, and I’m / Learning that pointe shoes show no mercy on / Adolescent girls.
- I watch them in their swarms, trying to remember a forgotten song.
Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry
- (“Cave” by Sami Keinänen is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue #27 – Spring 2021 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin Gravity is the combined weight of our hearts – Robert Ford Naked … Continue reading →
- (Utah Desert Monolith by Patrick A. Mackie) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue #26 – Winter 2020-21 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin More Noise Than the Wind and the Rain – Amelia Gorman A … Continue reading →
- (Carousel, by Caitlyn Kurilich) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue #25 – Autumn 2020 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin Twilight Instructions for Summer Spirits – Gretchen Tessmer A Lesson About the Speaker – Christina M. … Continue reading →
- Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 24 – Summer 2020 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin The Old God Dies – Jennifer Crow on smashing my windows – F.D. Hudson Pending – Sara Backer Co-habitation – Kimberly Kaufman … Continue reading →
- (Willoughby, by David Dyte, Empty New York series, 3/21/20) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 23 – Spring 2020 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin Chaos Theory – Gretchen Tessmer Inscription on a Ruined Plinth – … Continue reading →
- Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 22 – Winter 2019-20 Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin If you see me, weep – Jordan E. McNeil Refraction – Anuel Rodriguez Consider Me Feral – Tara Kustermann Lightbulbs – Emma J. Gibbon Matryoshka Doll – … Continue reading →
- “The Aftermath” – Caitlyn Kurilich Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 21 – Autumn 2019 Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin Odyssey – Anuel Rodriguez Brine and Vanishings – Hester J. Rook Eurydice Confesses – Sylvia Santiago Phaedra in … Continue reading →
- (The Landscape (exercise…), by Игорь М) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 20 – Summer 2019 Table of Contents Editorial (with actual news!) – Shira Lipkin In the Waning – Margaret Wack This Permanent Now – Jennifer Crow Holloways, … Continue reading →
- Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue #19 – Spring 2019 Table of Contents Stone – David Rogers Trees and What They Whisper – Lynette Mejía Lady Macbeth’s Green Gown – Jacqueline West to put aside all fear – Jennifer Mace An Automatic Cajachina – … Continue reading →
- Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry (“The Offering”, by Caitlyn Kurilich) Issue 18 – Winter 2018-19 Edited by Shira Lipkin Editorial – Shira Lipkin “Things That Will Keep You Through Winter” – Margaret Wack “In the end times we court … Continue reading →
Little Blue Marble
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- Vhopvketv you invaded my space with anti-climactic explosion, you singed my tongue with a new breed of speech, Muscogee dances descend upon erosion, how can you still drive me into … The post Em Ontvlecetv / Invaded appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- Don’t ever forget what winter used to be that peregrine dog a shy prancer who would lie down in the street showing his white fluffy belly I love crunchy … The post New Snow appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- she’s concerned, fraught with worry even and out of patience with this constant battering she takes dead oceans, melting glaciers, mass extinctions, pasture turned to dust bowl or desert … The post Mother Nature appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- You must hold the earth gently like you hold this monarch, newly emerged from its chrysalis, as it pauses on your fingertips to flex its wings. See how it … The post Advice for Girls Who Worry about Climate Change appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- Call a strike against this world for a bluer one, a purpler one; one where arms will never fail to embrace us against darkness. Protest the deaths of friends … The post Rabble-Rousing appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- (Golden Shovel1, after W. H. Auden) It’s serious, you know, but there’s still time. Caution’s no crime. You’ll act someday, you will. “You could have done more still,” whispers … The post I Would Let You Know appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
Feed displays only poetry.
- When you venture into the past, your clothes must fit the time, so stick with linens, cottons, wool. The post Packing Tips for Time Travelers appeared first on Mithila Review.
- The keeper who took my voice promised to lock it into a wooden box until it has been properly reviewed. Still, if a good word comes back, I might not recognize it. The post The Echo Chamber appeared first on Mithila Review.
- We walked there in the twilight and sang skysongs Our bodies were translucent and full of darkness How we carried our homeland in our bones The post We’re Refugees Who Found Love Searching for Atlantis appeared first on Mithila Review.
- The executioners grill letters and sigils into every corporal surface, black butterflies on her nails, a sponsor, fingers curling like locks of hair on her head, ink paintings on her eyes. The post Ceramics appeared first on Mithila Review.
- One day she herself ripened, swelling with the demon’s child. Twelve months she grew and grew, rounder than a pumpkin. The post Harvest appeared first on Mithila Review.
- There are no treasures here. Everything is mildewed, cracked, torn, incomplete, forlorn. He moves from room to room trying not to remember. Thomas Cochran lives in rural Arkansas. The post 910 first appeared on Nanoism.
- “You think he should have asked for my hand in marriage or something?” “No,” his father says, “but I would have liked to give my blessing.” CB McCall is an obvious pseudonym. The post 909 first appeared on Nanoism.
- I was a teenage minimalist guilty of photos in my closet box. Please don’t say anything about the postcard collection either. Katherine DeCoste (@katydecoste) is a writer who chronically forgets about her tea. The post 908 first appeared on Nanoism.
- Day 47: Record rainfall continues. Waterfall now spewing smoke. Trees consuming carpark. Locals concerned. Flora and fauna less so. Cathal Gunning is a writer and poet whose work has appeared in (string of reputable locales) The post 907 first appeared on Nanoism.
- I asked you if it was true and measured your silence, the weight of it. When you looked away, I wondered if I would ever feel light again. Mário de Seabra Coelho (@MSeabraCoelho) has been published in a few places but doesn’t know why. The post 906 first appeared on […]
- Family gone, he lives in a van by the pier. With gnarled fingers he baits kids’ hooks and untangles their lines, fishing for memories. Kim Favors writes from California’s coast. The post 905 first appeared on Nanoism.
- “Was I ever really human?” I asked. Dimitri frowned. “With all you’ve achieved…does it really matter?” I whispered: “It matters to him.” Kelsey Yandura (@kelseyyan) really enjoys picnics but thinks potato salad is weird. Also, really into fantasy, sci-fi, empathy, and whiskey. The post 904 first appeared on Nanoism.
- His breath puffs out in white clouds. The path ahead stretches into the darkness. Mayhap it wouldn’t hurt to lay down for a while. W. B. Biggs is a writer, a teacher, and an aspiring wizard. The post 903 first appeared on Nanoism.
- When I awoke I knew my sister Meredith had left. Because it was the cold that woke me up, you see. My mother had turned the heat back off. Scott Harris (@ScottHarrisMMA) is a freelance writer based near Washington, DC. The post 902 first appeared on Nanoism.
- The two carried the bags of clean clothes back to the van. Who will we be? asked the boy. I don’t know, said the man. Who do you want to be? Robert Hoekman Jr (@rhjr) thinks death is when you stop chasing. He writes and writes. He lives on a […]
New American Legends
- We never could realize the irony in our being upset with each Other for being upset… I don’t know if… Read more I Sometimes Feel Like I Am Drowning by Luke Dylan Ramsey
- Cancy, Atoka County, southeastern Oklahoma: home of the Boggy Bottom Monster. A reddish-brown ‘squatch with long arms and legs –… Read more The Boggy Bottom Monster by Richard Stevenson
- Jackson never liked hunting much in the dead of winter, but still he sat up in the tree wearing his… Read more Dead of Winter by Molly Houser
- Bone stars structure a universe Like a billion spines But they facture The universe is trying to crush me Maybe… Read more The Hidden Skeleton by Angelo Letizia
- Asiel tightened her arm around the large shell wrapped in the ragged silk. Widely, she spread the fingers of her… Read more Boundlessly Bright by Juliet Lockwood
- Death stood at the threshold. His navy blue umbrella trembled in the wind as the rain lashed the nylon canopy.… Read more Umbrella Lost and Found by Icy Wildes
- I am in my apartment on Eridarius when I hear the news – war has broken out back home. The… Read more ON A PLANET FAR FAR AWAY by John Grey
- I Never Learned to Shuffle Cards cling together,but break in collidingwaterfalls of cardboardnot ending in orderbut creating chaos of redand… Read more I Never Learned to Shuffle by Jordan Mattox
- I. The Skareen came for the women of the Duilane the night they met in council, butchering them in their… Read more The Riches of Olim Gor by Greg Sendi
- The girl glanced over her shoulder, her red sweatshirt clinging to her sweat-slicked back. Clutching her backpack closer to her,… Read more Teeth and Bones and Little Red Coats by Emma Deimling
The Piker Press
- Author: Ryan Quinn FlanaganGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-04-05Rated: PG-13"…hit me all the way down the street…"
- Author: Alex Andy PhuongGenre: haikuDate: 2021-04-05Rated: PG-13"…secrets obscure the truth…"
- Author: Peter A. WittGenre: poem rhymedDate: 2021-04-05Rated: PG-13"…tales of soulful scenic wonder,,,"
- Author: Bradford MiddletonGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-04-05Rated: PG-13"…Seeking attention Through plastic Social media…"
- Author: Ron SingerGenre: cover story fiction lifeDate: 2021-04-05Rated: PG-13Ron Singer (b. 1941) lives in New York with his wife, the painter, Elizabeth Yamin.
- Author: Brian RihlmannGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-04-05Rated: PG-13"…it shines like jagged jewels…"
- Author: Pranab GhoshGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-04-05Rated: PG-13"…The snake was chasing the rabbit…"
- Author: Tali Cohen ShabtaiGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-04-05Rated: PG-13"…I need a cigarette that does not exceed 10 centimeters…"
- Author: Robin Wyatt DunnGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-04-05Rated: PG-13"…curving solid over the sky…"
- Author: Merlin FlowerGenre: visual artDate: 2021-04-05Rated: PG-13Merlin Flower is an independent artist and writer.
Feed displays only poetry.
- Sandi Leibowitz < Night and the forest has come into the kitchen with darkness tangled in its hair. Angela Carter Even his eyes have been eaten. I remember him the way he used to be, foreign presence entering our cottage changing everything, the Bear since swallowed by the prince. […]
- Adele Gardner You bend, my angel, pensive, over graves. He loved me–loved us both in different lives. You have her hair, he said. His eyes sought yours, Hoping your eyes would follow–not blind stone. You saw him. Cameras caught you, quite alone, The two of you, communion–in one frame– Translucent arms to […]
- WC Roberts Tyla's friend is always the same, dressed in that gingham dress trying to get her to dance those old dances Charleston Jitterbug saying not to worry about what's happening "over there" in Germany. President Roosevelt will see us through this depression and keep us out of […]
- Rita Chen They told me: Don't look down the well, girl. There's something sick, at the bottom of it. A family curse, buried in the earth. A miasma rising—rotted smog. Year by year, the manor gardens wilt. Give us this day our daily guilt. The other day, a bird lay […]
- Mary Soon Lee At the center of all things, a fountain in a garden. Five yards from the center, beneath a willow tree, Ling Hua, Empress of China, sat cross-legged listening to the water chattering to itself in the hour after dawn, the hour of consecration. Her left knee ached. […]
- Deborah L. Davitt I never thought of bread as a living thing, but it is, a colony of yeast bacteria given living space and food in a matrix of earth-given grain, sea-born salt, and sky-born water; they exhale their own breath to make their city rise, and we freeze them […]
- Deborah L. Davitt You tore down our mother’s temples, fearing that to give glory to her, the Queen of Heaven, she who treads the sea, Asherah, would take glory from him who was her husband, who divided his land from her sea, Elkunirsa—more lately El (which means Lord to those who remember their […]
- Hicham El Qendouci Where do I start? From any wound among thousands of them, From the beginning of the tough infection Three months ago… I suffer from pain and disease, sick with a virus Lurking like fire beneath my skin, a hidden danger waiting in ambush. I suffer within my […]
- Robert Borski Because we choose to be the way we are, as opposed to acceding to biological dictate or mythic onus, we have been called all sorts of things — turncoat, vyrmin, gusano, paladinite — as if to self-identify as alt-dragon disregards tradition or refutes our natural place in the world. But qui […]
- Mary Soon Lee God's a gambler, a gamer, rolling her quantum dice, drawn to drama, the odds, dueling with the devil. Bet the dinosaurs. Lost. Promised herself she'd quit. Whereupon her plans progressed with perfect predictability. Millennia upon millennia of interminable tedium until she fell to temptation down in hell's […]
Priestess & Hierophant
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- We are sorry for the way this will arrive, damp and damagesome. No doubt the peculiar constitutions of our nations, catastrophically susceptible to each other, account for the long gap in correspondence though here we find no record of any sort to suggest a former, well-established channel. That is, however, […]
- My fiancée’s aunt takes us to look for owls. We wear ice cleats. New family, new ways, but I’m an indoor cat (cats are another thing I’ve had to learn). I am new at this, new as the ring on my finger, but my love puts on earmuffs and glows […]
- maybe ground is meant to ripple and sag like skin showing her age. the wisdom of roots aching to surface maybe we’re meant to stumble and break blades made for vain manicuring to steep amazement in unpredictable growth you downed nana cottonwood onto teenaged limbs, too […]
- Translated from Filipino by Kristine Ong Muslim Aside from water, aside from sailing, killings and results of counting steps, in pursuit of danger as well as familiarity of gestures shielded from view by dayandang trees. The season’s too cold for leaping to conclusions on whether constellations are drifting farther away […]
- Bukod sa tubig, bukod sa paglalayag, mga pagpatay at mga resulta ng pagbibilang ng hakbang, pagsunod sa kapahamakan gayundin ang pagkilala sa mga galaw na itinatago ng mga dayandang. Malamig ang panahon para sa paglukso sa mga konklusyon kung dumidistansiya ba ang mga konstelasyon. Parang nauuso na naman ang pagmimiron […]
- So, here we are at the end. We have pulled down the sails to make patches for the ocean, come we will patch those patches with paisley scraps, with blue and white checks like Dorothy’s dress, we will save scraps of paper to cover half-written books; come we will grab […]
- The repatriation flight skids off the tabletop runaway, thundering in the tailwind. Homing dreams crash through the optical illusion. Breaking the pandemic shackles, they gallop toward the gruesome gorge. Downpour and darkness cannot immure their vigor. They are incandescent with compassion, forget their masks. Excruciating voices. They hasten to […]
- They ask her if this is the end, Armageddon, Ragnarok—is Jesus Going to come sort this. Can it get Worse. Winston Smith knew Dystopia is not drama but grind, The constant scrape of fear. We’ve tried dramatic speeches (Appalling, sublime); it’s time To get on with the slow business Of […]
- There will be rooms of people You’ve never seen before. And won’t again, strangers, Brazenly loving music, Eating dumplings, browsing scarves. There will be breaths let out, Unchecked; there will be strange air, Strange beds, cafe tables That wobble as you write. There will be spontaneous outings. You will linger […]
- as we retreat to our homes (those lucky to have them), stock up on what we think we’ll need—toilet paper, hand sanitizer, flour, beans—begin to understand what it means to hunker down. In public, try out social distancing: smile, nod, nervous, wonder is this six feet? when what we want […]
Rune Bear Weekly
- The package arrives just like that. No text, no email, only a screech of tires and a black sedan swerving into my driveway.
- – C’mon. Please. – Are you out of your mind?
- The sailor netted her one wind-swept storm-tossed dusk, imprisoned her
- It was hard to decide whether to destroy a galaxy or spare it. Emperor Antero Vipunen considered this choice.
Space & Time
SPANK the CARP
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- On a journey long, long, ago Afrofuturism was long-sought… The post Journey to Afrofuturism by Donald “C-Note” Hooker appeared first on .
- transmission from the Sonic Resisters, voice unknown/What i am is fugitive… The post TRANSMISSION 33 (aka replikant) by jamika ajalon appeared first on .
- Braced against skyscraper, he clawed at webs of malty stars… The post The Alt-history of King Kong by Renoir Gaither appeared first on .
- It's a common enough thing, a quarter, a fortune… The post Laundromancy by Amelia Gorman appeared first on .
- Your grimace is the pathos that belies your claw, ready to strike… The post Into Thick Air appeared first on .
- The radioactive waste my home sleeps on… The post Mutant appeared first on .
- I left pieces of myself buried among the words. The post I Hear the Bells of Hell appeared first on .
- The old satellite dish technology’s word made whole in mute obsolescence stands motor frozen… The post Profession of Faith appeared first on .
- I always thought we'd go out in a big way, like the dinosaurs did. With a nuclear winter or… The post Monologues to Perform at the End of the World by Lenna Mendoza appeared first on .
- 1. You wake to fog, fire, fevers. The second day of reckoning. The post Pursuit: evasion by Tiffany Morris appeared first on .
Feed displays only poetry.
- i think the princesses are sick of constellations by now
- You are harming the mother you claimed solely yours.
- the fireworks’ ashes rain down into our sweet, iced tea
- An act of defining/defiance
- isn’t that what we imagine? no missing skin or the sovereignty of fighter jets.
- SWIMMING IN THE SLUDGE IS A MCKINSEY CONSULTANT!
- بعیدا عن كرومها الأولى | far from their original orchards
- recurring and recurring. paralyzed in the face of the luminous suit
- The cockerel is his grandmother, so claims the cockerel.
- surely a little paint wouldn't hurt anyone?
Feed displays only poetry.
- unsung tales of yoke unbroken mosaics of the many unlived hung undone the newborn scion betrothed to the meanders of flexile gods as ritual or phantom—I do not know which yet, we dip the newborn in the bewitching lakes as early riser or insomniac—I do not remember which yet, the forlorn sky […]
- A rustle is heard in the vert; A mother stalks her young. A cold sinister wind howls an abominable note, a thief chances on hidden treasure; a poacher claims his price. Unsuspecting, the sun shines ever so brightly; the Earth shrieks in mortal agony. Alas! The moon plots a coup; […]
- A drop of helium into my soul, like a spice. An ingredient for independence, or uplifting, or sadness. Like years becoming stories, folktales, near-lies. Because they're too old to be remembered, or forgotten— The taste of mama's breast milk, the taste of African earth, The taste of pap, the sound […]
- Our history pants hopelessly Under the burden of our complacency Like an old palm-wine tapper with a huge gourd Balanced upon his crooked, creaking back. Our time, tired of regrets Spread around its sodden sands for too long, Has turned a rooster with a penetrating crow– Deafening like the sounds […]
- Mother won't bleed again to the breaking song According to the gospel of insanity of man. She says life is in the hands of a madman. She says Sunday is not enough To bless the memories of her son Who she lost in the hands of stray bullets. Mother won't […]
- My Pen bleeds ink that heals abyssal hearts
- The sun releases her scorching smiles, And her thundering rays smear abruptly Echoing into the eardrum of the world Reaching from a far fearful forest Unknown to the magic of all fortune seekers. The sound of silent screamers spike Into the deafened ears of the jungle And boom; its planted […]
- A number of souls are being entertained by your air gulps, frightened shivers, stuttering tunes and hopeful chords. Your brain convinces your throat to purge out troubled words of the last song you heard in church. A bald man with brows that seem to have been eaten by the dead […]
- I eat my intestines, But your pots are flooded with food and fishes. I walk naked, But your seats are fashioned with purple linen. I lie in sty, in cold nights, While your pigs sleep in castles. You call me brother, but you wish that The border between us were broader. You turn your eyes away from […]
- In my body, depression feigns piety as a muse And drags my fingers through the lines of manuscripts Every breath is an incision on my corpse With a six-inch skewer. I do not fear death, but each time night crawls towards me I begin to wonder how many times I […]
Tales from the Moonlit Path
- Dear Beloveds, We will be taking a break, both from evaluation of work submitted and publishing new works, during December, January, and most of February. Expect to hear back from us about any submitted work in February and see new works published on our site by March 2021. Thank youRead […]
- [On Crafting A] Throne World “Opinor ergo sum” — — my pen singing in the same key as a birthday candle’s dulcet surrender a wailing mother, a cooling Glock, an emergency call to prayer, a kiss hello, a welcome home. Of all the realms hidden between your synapses,Read […]
- The trees, shedding, drop an accumulation of colored leaves across the forest floor. The animals, passing, observe their falling and interpret them like tarot cards. Those leaves make the shape of a Pegasus about to take flight. The birds take solace in the image, knowing their journey will beRead […]
- cresting white dunes, a long, hot trek—watchsidewinders slither across the ghostly bonesof a prehistoric sea taste the alkali, the bitterness of lost waters against your thick tongue; the mirage in the distance taunts you with your thirst when you close your eyes plesiosaurs swim nearby— pressure bandsRead […]
- First, it was wine and an assortment of cheeses. Then a walk through the park, the jasmine air slithering mildly between them. Later, on her porch, when a younger couple might have kissed in fleeting secrecy, she said, “Can I interest you in a tour of my museum?” Yes, heRead […]
- The Seezali ship is visible ahead, darting in and out of asteroids as it approaches. Its crew apparently believes they are invisible but we Kalahamar can see through any cloaking device. The ship is twice the size of ours, but this won’t matter once we employ the Contraction. The thingRead […]
- It was like this: she was there until she wasn’t In the time it takes for the sun to dip below the ground She left everyone Towards new sights and new sounds New quiet like quiet she’d never known before New darkness like the darkness behind your eyelids can’t holdRead […]
- I hold your image in between my thumb and forefinger. The white has faded and has begun to yellow. The black-inked you captivate my imagination. A moment is captured, unaware, and lost in thought on a bustling Ohio street. Tall man. Smart suit. Porkpie hat. A tie fluttering a secondRead […]
- No-longer-living things are everywhere in this house. They shouldn’t be shocked by this. Not really. Not if they thought about it. No-longer-living things sit in their sinks too, and hide in their medicine cabinets, parade on countertops, loiter in corners of garages, and drape apathetically over chairs. Capitalist clutter fillsRead […]
- The World It Softly Lulls: Daria Dockery on Gender, The Ancestors, and The Land by Gabrielle Lawrence-CormierEarlier this year, Daria Dockery, an artist and internet friend tweeted, “when i accepted that my non-binary identity is about relating to my ancestors and not other non-binary people i got really free.” Intrigued by my own fascinations with memory and ancestry, and my own questions about gender, I pressedRead […]
Uncanny: A Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy
Feed displays only poetry.
- But who would pray to you, supply your canonization? First, all is muted, a green, speckled wash, and a balding man has just heard the worst news of his life, and your name comes to him as gently as a silver blanket placed on the face of a planetless […]
- I spent years pulling my heart out from behind my ribs, certain that I didn’t need it, that barking mess, making all that noise— I threw it to the wolves, took their offering of teeth, thinking I could rid myself of the whole aching creature— but it kept coming back, […]
- there’s only so much metal on earth—another way to phrase this: how often will I be expected to wake up with plundered copper coils on my tongue? a decommissioned satellite in my chest? there are humane methods of extraction: ex. putting me back to sleep & forbidding my aimless […]
- you open the papers, wipe the headline-stains on the back of your knee, grumble that the world has changed since you were young. elder, all it did was become high definition. it turned your window into a pathway, and you don’t like standing in its light. there are […]
- In my dream all the women were there because it was a women’s college some of them had attended and we were seated around a wooden table. I was brought a fish, silverscaled: a salmon, I believe. I fed it a goldfish. —Now your fish is pregnant, they told me […]
- It was a knife, that first time we noticed, the old one that fitted so well to my hand. These things happen, you said, thinking it merely lost. I worried the landlord’s kid broke in, took it for kicks. My glasses, two weeks later, the only thing they gave […]
- A stranger’s shirt on my back, sweat-sour, I weave a tangled arithmetic through a sea of ink to pawn off dented yellow helm and a pair of blue-stained sleeves for an onigiri. On the polished arcade floor leaning against a shuttered Westwood you are shamefully out of fashion, on […]
- The post Kalevala, an untelling appeared first on Uncanny Magazine.
- On the one hand, they had been her friends for so long, whispering in her ears, telling her stories, reciting poems, not just the sorts of things you would expect, Sappho and Hesiod, but Auden, Eliot, Yeats—they liked the modernists— and Sylvia Plath, Adrianne Rich— they were eclectic in their […]
- A paper can be folded seven times. Each crease across my origami skin is sharp enough to slice. I’ve tried to thin my bones and sinews, ink myself in lines so small, so shrinking, safe to overlook— passed between palms, a secret note in school, crumpled and cast […]