
tragedy of the sugarcane ghost
the old man doesn’t recognize me because i am wearing his son’s face. it is a mask that looks just like his, but without the
Stories will be released on our website and podcast approximately 1-2 months after publication in our issues.
Letter from the Editors
Aleksandra Hill, Kanika Agrawal, Rowan Morrison, Zhui Ning Chang, Isabella Kestermann, and Sachiko Ragosta
Coming soon: excerpt of Liar, Dreamer, Thief and an interview with its author, Maria Dong!
Interview with Naseem Jamnia
Questions by Aleksandra Hill
Excerpt: The Bruising of Qilwa
Out from Tachyon Publications
Some Thoughts on Cuisine and Culture
Aliette de Bodard
Ketchup Pork Chops and Foreign Potatoes
C. H. Hung
the old man doesn’t recognize me because i am wearing his son’s face. it is a mask that looks just like his, but without the
Annalise dies in the bathtub. The baby screaming. Her husband panicking. The doula calling 911 on a cellphone smeared with red. Lacy clouds of blood
February 20th My dearest Evelina, I hope this letter finds you well. I hope this letter finds you. However you are, I wish these words
I visit the city gardens at my therapist’s suggestion to break from routine, to get out of the apartment and away from the memories. He
“And these,” I say, motioning to the stack of metal discs on Pan’s booth, “are coins. Earth’s economy is entirely based upon the transmutation of
I grew up the daughter of necromancers and undertakers, well acquainted with unmoored spirits. Singing, weeping, and hearty, rich food were well-known qualities of a
Of all the Jewish holidays, Sukkot was the hardest to celebrate in space. Rabbi Greenberg had been a young child when her family boarded the
Do you still remember June? Do you remember how we were back then? I’ll give you some clues: the air, thick with barbecue smoke and
20 October 2060 I woke up hungover the day after Kuala Lumpur was supposed to end. At first, all I could understand was the sharp,
By the time you reach Holtsburg, where your wrong family is waiting for you, you don’t speak at all. “Oh,” says your wrong mother after
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