Category: issue 12

Being a demigod is very taxing for the psyche. You end up seeing things that aren’t there, killing things that aren’t there. Shh, it’s okay; it wasn’t your fault.

I'm not sure exactly how long it’s been April 11th. We had a guy in charge of keeping track until we realised he was just making it up whenever someone asked. It’s been April 11th for a very long time.

The grassfire crept towards the granary. This one was worse than most; it got so big that the whole village together could do nothing but watch. Everyone’s grain, a whole year’s worth—for eating and for selling both—was about to go up in flames. 

Bright, pale blue light dimmed over M-360’s head as she sat in a steel pew of the church. Around her, everyone else in her neighborhood sat in wait for the sermon.

One day, after several million turnings of the universe, the Afterlife’s Glorious Hospitality Crew’s traditional millenia-end satisfaction survey revealed disturbing news: they were considered rather anachronistic when greeting newcomers.

June’s missing and no one seems to care. No police report, no missing persons search, nothing. It’s been three months and her school should have sent a letter: a call, even. Mama and Baba haven’t noticed either. No one seems even curious why June hasn’t called, emailed, or even sent a letter. No one seems to know she’s missing except me.

The four of them clustered in a round booth at a midnight diner. Danae stirred her steaming, black-as-pitch coffee with a long, manicured fingernail.

Hell was a hospital waiting room.  Ash’s mother gave their hand a squeeze. When they looked out of the corner of their eye to see her face, she gave them a tight-lipped smile.

I'm riding through space on my bike (as one does) when I see this enormous sunflower.

On the outside, there was no indication that the warehouse down the street from my apartment stocked its shelves with books from parallel universes.