I don’t see him anymore, not in the flesh, there’s just a cutout of him now. Him and everyone else in the city. Everyone except me. I used to pass real George on my cycle to work. Him and his real dog...

I don’t see him anymore, not in the flesh, there’s just a cutout of him now. Him and everyone else in the city. Everyone except me. I used to pass real George on my cycle to work. Him and his real dog...

I don’t see him anymore, not in the flesh, there’s just a cutout of him now. Him and everyone else in the city. Everyone except me. I used to pass real George on my cycle to work. Him and his real dog...

I don’t see him anymore, not in the flesh, there’s just a cutout of him now. Him and everyone else in the city. Everyone except me. I used to pass real George on my cycle to work. Him and his real dog...

Remember the recharge time. A minute and one. A lot can happen in that time. Microjumps, they say. Alternate realities at the speed of what-if. The velocity of wondering. All I must do is make...

Remember the recharge time. A minute and one. A lot can happen in that time. Microjumps, they say. Alternate realities at the speed of what-if. The velocity of wondering. All I must do is make...

The silver stork plucked my daughter Salma from the porch of our 1860 colonial during a downpour last July.  It was our thing; sitting and watching the clouds build, eating fast-melting popsicles a...

The silver stork plucked my daughter Salma from the porch of our 1860 colonial during a downpour last July.  It was our thing; sitting and watching the clouds build, eating fast-melting popsicles a...

The silver stork plucked my daughter Salma from the porch of our 1860 colonial during a downpour last July.  It was our thing; sitting and watching the clouds build, eating fast-melting popsicles a...

Broadly defined, the type of fiction we are looking for is “fun”. [Go to Submissions]

by Elizabeth Twist The largest of the remaining church walls is a hunchbacked beast. It looms in the half-dark. Beyond it is open sky, and far below, the patchwork quilt of farms and bogs and the wor...

Night Shades is a short speculative fiction magazine.

“I think there’s something moving down there” You couldn’t tell there were three of them at first, not until they had almost cleared the courthouse and started towards the post office. The first o...

ALT: Scenic Train Journey View from Window

“I think there’s something moving down there” You couldn’t tell there were three of them at first, not until they had almost cleared the courthouse and started towards the post office. The first o...

The Museum of Heads holds the world’s largest collection of heads. The Museum of Heads opened a long time ago. No one can say when. If they could, they would still have their heads. In front of ...

The daughter is tired of walking, the muscles in her thighs and calves trembling as they climb, but there’s no chance of the father turning around until he’s seen everything he came to see. The forest...

The daughter is tired of walking, the muscles in her thighs and calves trembling as they climb, but there’s no chance of the father turning around until he’s seen everything he came to see. The forest...

The daughter is tired of walking, the muscles in her thighs and calves trembling as they climb, but there’s no chance of the father turning around until he’s seen everything he came to see. The forest...

The fruit flies started in the kitchen. They started on the tomatoes. We picked the fruit pink in a race against the raccoons, piling them on the counter. We wanted to wait: we wanted to eat them only...