Lot
Every travel guide forgets one important thing: America is held together by parking lots.
Not roads. Not laws. Not hope. Parking lots.
Read it nowMystery
Clam Up
The platter was completely empty. Great Auntie Alma and I stared at the remaining oil spots, my dreams of a peaceful pre-Thanksgiving dinner draining down the garbage disposal.
“They’re all gone?” Great Auntie Alma asked incredulously. “We haven’t even had
An Ordinary Day
A stranger in a wool overcoat retreats from the panicked crowd and stops next to me. I was surveying the starry horizon when he drew near. He seems calm.
I stick out my hand. “It seems we’re in the same situation. My name is Daniel Bradford.”
The World’s Saints
The crypt was cold, as expected. What I didn’t expect as I stepped toward my family’s section was the torch light and the murmured words. Nobody visited this crypt; nobody mourned the loved ones entombed there. Nobody but me, of course.
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You Know
When the inspector arrived, the body lay in Pasaje Rivarola, wedged between a municipal bio-recycler and a wall that had been generating targeted ads since 2241. Even dead, Mirta Szulman was receiving offers on refinanced neural debt.
Inspector Dante Foglino crouched over her and lit a cigarette.
The Big House
He paced outside the wrought-iron fence, eyeing the bright-red brick Victorian mansion as if a monster lurked within. His first time back since…
And his first time seeing her again in many years.
A plaque by the open gate read The Big House: Home for
A Gold-Coin Promise
“Perfect weather, Benji,” drawled Mac.
The forest was cold, it was damp, and it was getting dark. “How so?” I said.
“Snow on its way. That’ll cover the grave.”
Mac, carrying the head end of the shrouded corpse, peered into the gathering gloom…
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The Dreadful Puzzle of the Dead Hand
It was a blustery day in October of 1880 when Sherlock Holmes was summoned to a student tenement near the University of London. The telegram requested my presence as well, which was unusual. I went willingly since I had no other appointments that morning.
Lestrade met us outside in the street, visibly shaken and white as a sheet.
Below Challenger Deep
I dive into the water.
Bubbles explode around me, floating to the surface as water passes through my gills, replenishing the air in my lungs. The slight oceanic pressure is comforting, and I relax. It feels like home.
But Axel warned me not to go all sentimental again. We’ve only got an hour before
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Take Me to Mykonos
“Take me to Mykonos,” the drunk young man said to no one as I walked by. He was slouched in a chair outside a taverna, the exterior of which was drowning in bougainvillea. It was very early to be that drunk—but who was I
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Selkie’s Sanctuary
Moira’s breath fogged the viewing window, her wide eyes staring unblinking, as though in the split second they closed, Isla would disappear once again.
She’d been searching for her sister for months, ever since the night she failed to return to their pod. A missing selkie typically
The Antikythera Paradox
“Madam Centurion MXVII,” the construct intelligence within my gauntlet greets me with its musical, yet mechanical voice.
From my vantage on the precipice of Vox Emperii Inc.’s neon-glowing glass skyscraper, I can overlook nearly all of Rome. “Good evening, Antikythera Moda.”
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