Mynah found Lei in an isolated clot of an estuary town, in a valley mostly sheltered from the acrid squalls of the cursewinds. Nearly a year of searching and there they were at last: sitting on an upturned crate at the end of a jetty. A lone sampan bobbed in the water, among the bristling mats of hyacinth and drifting rubbish.
Posts
Hatchi, by Andrew K Hoe
Hatchi the *****-P****** emerges from a small wormhole—a shoebox-sized dimpling of space that vanishes once he waddles through—and steps onto a hill composed entirely of starlight.
Acquisition: Earth, by Steven Berger
Hon. Sciorek, I am sorry again for what happened during my last assignment. Yurfiga was a challenging planet to integrate into Quarrex’s operations, and I would have liked to oversee the mass cleanup efforts myself. However, I understand you need me on Earth, and I promise to send regular reports.
A Most Professional Demon, by R. J. Howell
Anilay’s thumb hovered over the green call icon. Come on, girl! Tap into your inner succubus and be confident! Be daring! Come on, just call already! Sadly, her inner succubus seemed to be on vacation in Tahiti.
More Than Trinkets, by Ramez Yoakeim
I met Gordy on my first day in junior crèche. I sat on my own in the cafeteria, aimlessly pushing food around, when a sturdily built boy with a shock of unruly hair sat opposite me, grinned, and introduced himself.
Seven Parts Full, by Anya Ow
Seok Kim cursed the mountain as she walked. The mouse deer that ducked away from her stumbling gait wasn’t spared her wrath. As she loudly wished for a thousand fleas to infest its white-striped throat, someone stifled a laugh.
Weaving in the Bamboo, by Eliza Chan
Summer is when we spend our days in the flooded rice fields, the fish tickling our ankles. Hours of planting stretching out like a bamboo stem in the wind. But there were never snakes before.
Quicker to Love a Goat Than a Boy, by James Mimmack
“Will you give your name this year?” Isheya’t asks. You shake your head, adjusting the woven straw pack on your shoulders and squinting out ahead into the red blaze of the sunrise. “Not planning on it. But ask me again in another hour.”
Everybody’s Got a Hungry Heart, by Louis Evans
Agent Heartbreak and the Misery Muse meet cute on a lonely-hearts cruise.
Digging Up Sergeant Moon Years, by H.L. Fullerton
First thing you ought to know is just because the Army says my brother is dead doesn’t mean he is. I’m counting on them being right about the gravesite and the body being intact-ish. Otherwise, Casey could be slowly suffocating in an entirely different cemetery. Maybe even buried back in Afghanistan. In which case my cousin Versal and I will be desecrating graves for nothing.