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,” 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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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
“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.”
The alley off Lima’s Jirón de la Union looked like a scene from the past. Shayla spotted the sign in the hodgepodge of others, hand-lettered and sun-bleached: Sellos Únicos. Souvenirs del Alma.
Perfect, she thought.
She angled her phone’s camera to frame the shop’s warped doorway and hit record.
Long ago in China, a boy named Yan ran as fast as he could, squinting against the westward sun as it cast shadows on the mountain path. A cry caught his attention. He looked up, seeing an old man perched on a rock and waving a tin cup.
“I’m thirsty,” the man said. “I cannot reach the stream below.
Mateo glanced at his lock screen and huffed. They should have left for the concert fifteen minutes ago. Where was Dylan?
He dialed his friend’s number yet again, but it went to voicemail for the fourth time.
Beep!
“Dylan, come on, man!
“Ah, I did say I would match you drink for drink, didn’t I?” Nathaniel Markson sways as he pulls another whiskey off a passing server’s tray. His flushed cheeks are evidence that he’s had far more drinks beyond the three with you.
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“How are you solving these cold cases, Officer?” Chief Stanford lowered the report to his desk, shaking his head in disbelief.
Officer Alvin Waters scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. His observational skills had led to his interest in law enforcement, but he never imagined
As usual, morning in the village was quiet. Until I saw Martha.
She was hauling boxes into the street outside her cottage. Everyone knew her as the widow who hadn’t left her home since her husband’s death five months ago. A porcelain lamp shattered against
“Florence. Florence! I’m sorry. Please come back.”
The shouts ricochet between the chimney-like hoodoo rocks, making it seem like Aunt Junie is everywhere at once. I huff. If anyone could master that superpower, it’d be her.
“Leave me alone! I hate you.”
Jojo the long-eared jerboa was terrible at serving tea. No matter how carefully he carried the porcelain pot across the floor, his uneven gate always caused sloshing onto the fine oriental rug. The slow, wobbly progress was painful to watch, yet
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