North Atlantic Ocean, April 14th, 1912, 10:00 PM
“Oi!” Jewell says as he drops onto the deck. “Keep a sharp look-out for ice, particularly growlers.”
“Sea’s calm tonight.” Symons lands beside him and rubs his hands together. “It’ll make it rougher. Keep your eyes peeled, Fleet.”
“Thanks,” I respond tightly. I always dreamed of being on lookout.
Icy wind combed through my hair, cutting my exposed skin like a razor. The beast roared beneath my thighs, the machine’s force reverberating my rib cage as it churned out a wave of snow in my wake. Inside my helmet, my heart pumped like a speaker. Cold air drove down my throat to bite
Read it now
Every year it’s the same. On the twentieth day of January, I’m hustled into a room full of my captors—some of which are my size but with no basic manners—and forced to perform. Sure, I’m given some capelin as payment during these exercises, but the treat is poor compensation for the humiliation…
Read it now
They say there’s nothing like a sea breeze on Earth. That it gets into your joints, pierces the soul. That it’s delicious, as if you could bite off chunks and let it melt on your tongue like Kroterean skyfruit.
But the fumes from Luna’s artificial oceans can make you ill for weeks
Philinok knew all about inspiring fear, but feeling it was foreign. It nullified his advantage, which enraged him. Angering him further was the rain that continued to pelt his head like stones.
Use that. Channel the fear and the anger into fighting fury–if you want to survive.
What should have looked like a field had become
Santa knew this house. As his sleigh bumped lightly on the slate roof, he noticed a frisbee nestled in a gutter. I gave that to Suzy last year. Santa bent down, his ample belly bending easily, and tossed the toy into the yard. He liked the girl here, but her brother Bobby was next level.
Read it now
You wrap me in colored blankets every night, muttering to yourself in an ancient tongue, the words falling from your lips like a desperate prayer, like a spell that never finds its mark. You are a mother at heart—just not my mother.
I watch you empty the basin at my window,
“Sorcha, wait!” Mr. Devereaux calls. The pompous old duck is always telling me to wait. “Feudal Japan isn’t safe for foreigners. Europeans could be killed on sight.”
“Did anyone warn my brother of that?” I yell over my shoulder.
I plunge through the dripping trees to the road beyond.
Save my son.
The plea echoed in Marek’s head, as dark and haunting as the forest through which he stumbled. His breathing labored—as did that of the unconscious child cradled in his arms.
“Come on, David, stay with me,” he begged.
Something rustled in the bushes ahead. Marek halted and squinted into
Percy blinked. After glancing around the room, he blinked again, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He stood naked in a giant glass tube. In his last memory, he’d been fully clothed and curled up beside a campfire in the Brazilian jungle…
That wasn’t the most startling revelation though. No. What
Dear Kenny,
I know I said I wouldn’t go back, but I had to, all right? I’m alive, obviously, and I know why you told me to stay away. But I couldn’t—so let’s leave it at that and move on.
I think things were a little different for me. When we were…
I never cared much for Bigfoot as a kid, even though I live in his backyard. Have you seen the crazies who hunt him? No thanks.
But I was concerned with the Canadian legend of a three-inch-tall gray creature that built nests out of dryer lint. Something people like to think doesn’t exist in
Recent Comments