Apex Magazine
I pick through owl pellets and call it art, though my husband refuses to. The sculptures are mostly skeletal. I dip them in resin squares to freeze them forever. This...
The Art the Owls Can't Swallow
I pick through owl pellets and call it art, though my husband refuses to. The sculptures are mostly skeletal. I dip them in resin squares to freeze them forever. This...
“The Clown Watches the Clown” by Sara S. Messenger is a masterfully written story about a masochistic janitor of a cybermotel who is desperate to recapture a feeling he had...
Interview with Author Sara S. Messenger
“The Clown Watches the Clown” by Sara S. Messenger is a masterfully written story about a masochistic janitor of a cybermotel who is desperate to recapture a feeling he had...
“We thumb our red noses. We reveal all. And we have never played the fool.” —Demitriosa Muen, organizer and spokespersonThe Joyful Port Workers I dress up as a clown and...
The Clown Watches the Clown
“We thumb our red noses. We reveal all. And we have never played the fool.” —Demitriosa Muen, organizer and spokespersonThe Joyful Port Workers I dress up as a clown and...
A few months after I finished reading Vajra Chandrasekera’s debut novel, The Saint of Bright Doors, Lesley asked me if I’d like to review his sophomore novel Rakesfall for Apex...
Book Review: Rakesfall by Vajra Chandrasekera
A few months after I finished reading Vajra Chandrasekera’s debut novel, The Saint of Bright Doors, Lesley asked me if I’d like to review his sophomore novel Rakesfall for Apex...
When the last copy of Little Jasmine at the publisher’s warehouse was pulped, the color bled out from our world. My ruby red cheongsam and my husband’s officer’s uniform dampened...
Out of Print
When the last copy of Little Jasmine at the publisher’s warehouse was pulped, the color bled out from our world. My ruby red cheongsam and my husband’s officer’s uniform dampened...
The city sleeps. All of the buildings are dark, save for one small shop, where the orange glow of a candle, flickering cheerfully in its holder, drives back the shadows...
Abode
The city sleeps. All of the buildings are dark, save for one small shop, where the orange glow of a candle, flickering cheerfully in its holder, drives back the shadows...
1 September, 2118Psyche-88, Syndicate Mining Ltd Life is transactional. Give this, get that. It’s the first law of thermodynamics, nothing personal. No sense getting dust-fucked over it. But you already...
Down the Dust Hatch
1 September, 2118Psyche-88, Syndicate Mining Ltd Life is transactional. Give this, get that. It’s the first law of thermodynamics, nothing personal. No sense getting dust-fucked over it. But you already...