Our year 2 Kickstarter is live!
Click the logo to check out the campaign and all the great rewards we have waiting for backers, or click here:
Our latest story
Whispers from the Jewish quarter about the raising of a golem. A clock where every hour Death pursued sins and set them quaking. Astronomy, botany, art. Bohemia in the days of Rudolf II was famed for many things. Among them was the making of glass.
Zoja was a master glassblower who lived in the outskirts of Prague. In her youth she had married Jozef, learned his trade and worked alongside him. What greater happiness than to find pleasure in your work, shared with the one you love? Perhaps that was why their glass had been so beautiful. Sometimes, Jozef would send the apprentices home early. Locking the door after them, he would steal behind Zoja and, breathing warmly upon her neck, place his hands upon hers as she dipped the blowpipe into the sand. Together they rolled it back and forth upon the metal plate. They took turns blowing their breath into the blowpipe, as if it shared their kisses. Together they would shape the glass, the furnace glowing as hot as their desire. They would retreat to their little house beside the studio and consummate what they’d begun. Even now, years after Jozef’s death, Zoja trembled to remember the fervor of their lovemaking.
Their life had been complete except for one thing—they could not conceive a child. When years passed and it grew clear no child would come to them, Zoja and Jozef threw themselves even more ardently into their work. They eschewed the new-fashioned method of cutting into the glass to embellish, instead creating inventive shapes that made their work well prized. Their fluted pine-green glasses rose in supple forms, opening like rare blossoms. Liqueur flasks in the shape of cavorting lions or savage griffons delighted anyone who saw them. Cabbage leaves with finches perched on the rim were barely recognizable as bowls. The longer Zoja remained without a child, the more imaginative her work became, for if she could not create new life from her womb, she would do so with her hands. Emperor Rudolf himself had once sent an emissary to inspect their work and purchased their most spectacular piece, a glass Triton blowing a glass conch-shell from which the emperor might drink his wine.
Before Zoja attained middle age, Jozef died, leaving her desolate. To still her grief, she labored longer hours in her studio. Years passed. The glassblower never took another husband, although from time to time she sought comfort in the arms of Jarmil the innkeeper, who would have wed her, or shared a sweet night in the bed of Milos the cooper, whose invalid wife left him almost a widower.
The Nature of Glass – Sandi Leibowitz
The World’s Secret Heartbeat – Aatif Rashid
Hearts and Roses – Kathryn Yelinek
Pandemonium – Allison Epstein
Whispers from the Jewish quarter about the raising of a golem. A clock where every hour Death pursued sins and set them quaking. Astronomy, botany, art. Bohemia in the days of Rudolf II was famed for many things. Among them was the making of glass. Zoja was a master glassblower who lived in the outskirts of Prague. In her youth she had married Jozef, learned his trade and worked alongside him. What greater happiness than…
Vanessa Fogg’s story “In Dew and Frost and Flame” was published in Metaphorosis on Friday, 3 June 2016. This story was born from the wreckage of a different, failed story. I’d been trying to write a story about a wizard’s house. In this story, a house has been abandoned for years, is eventually taken over by the county for unpaid taxes, and a housecleaning crew is assigned to clean the place up for sale. Since…
Q: If you could have any super power, what would it be?
A: The ability to travel instantaneously to any point in the universe. Despite all its riches, the Earth is obviously only a tiny, tiny portion of reality. What other wonders are out there? I’d love to be able to find out…
Simon Kewin’s story “The Stars are Tiny Lights on a Perfect Black Dome” will be published in Metaphorosis on Friday, 16 December 2016. Subscribe to our e-mail updates so you’ll know when new stories go live.
Taylor Hornig is a speculative fiction writer based in New Hampshire. In her free time, she enjoys reading, playing video games, and hanging out with her very fuzzy dogs.
Taylor Hornig’s story “The Doctor’s Mask” will be published in Metaphorosis on Friday, 23 December 2016. Subscribe to our e-mail updates so you’ll know when new stories go live.
Blake tried once again to start his car, a mustard-yellow vintage two-door from back when companies still made gasoline cars — but the engine only sputtered and groaned. It sounded to Khalid like a dying person, coughing and wheezing through its final moments of life with a few last and naive gasps of ill-conceived hope. “I told you we should have taken the electric,” Khalid said. “Don’t worry!” Blake called from the driver’s seat. “It’ll…
Q: What is your favourite part of writing?
A: My favorite part of writing is polishing. I do love the initial fervor of the onset of idea–but I struggle (usually) with working out the whole story. That’s where the hard labor comes in. But once I have my “skeleton draft,” as I call it, I love to see how the story fleshes itself out, often in ways I never dreamed. And I love to edit, but especially the part beyond mere copy editing, which is where the metaphors turn more apt, or interesting names are conjured up, etc. Then the story ceases to be just a skeleton, even a fleshed out one, and gains a personality, maybe even a soul.