Our latest story
“Because stopping time isn’t convincing.”
“I believe you have a time machine. Prove you’re me.” I tried again to straighten my head. “If you’re me, you know how.”
He smiled, sort of, anxious lines softening around his mouth. Would I become this sour-faced man? “And I know you’ve thought this through. Three secrets nobody knows.”
“Now, only things I’d never tell any—”
“In the treefort with D’arcy. What you threw in the library window. And that red-haired girl from choir.”
“Ouch,” I said. I wasn’t talking, not exactly, but he could hear me. “Okay, I wish I’d forgotten those.”
“Never did.” He rubbed the purple scar across his forehead. Since I couldn’t look out the windscreen of the van, I kept looking at him. At myself. I should smile more, or my two happy twins would grow up to be worried children. Smile more…parents have strange responsibilities.
“So,” he said, “do you believe me now, or should I mention the red sports bag you hid—”
“You’re me,” I said, too loud, and he stopped. “So—huh. So we did it. We invented time travel—well then, listen, about the friction battery…”
“You stop working on that today,” he said. “Just time travel, from now on. And it takes you ten more years.”
“Wait,” I said. “Should you tell me details like that? What about paradox? If I stop trying because I can’t fail—if I do that, would I fail?”
He reached to touch the scar again, then lowered his hand with a jerk. “You won’t fail, and you won’t stop trying. As long as you believe me, you will keep trying.” He glanced into the back seat, where the twins were safely buckled into their little seats.
Bad News from the Future – Angus Cervantes
The Lost Heirs of Rose McAlder – Kate Lechler
Just Five Minutes – George Allen Miller
Chambers of the Heart – B. Morris Allen
Candra Hope is a freelance artist living and working in the north of Scotland. She specialises in fantasy, horror and science fiction illustration but also enjoys creating paintings inspired by her surroundings for galleries and exhibitions.
Candra Hope‘s image “Scraps” is the cover art for our April 2017 stories.
Timothy Mudie has never been to Woodstock or been abducted by aliens. He lives with his wife outside of Boston, where he works as an editor for a general interest publishing house.
Timothy Mudie’s story “Sundown on the Hill” will be published in Metaphorosis on Friday, 31 March 2017. Subscribe to our e-mail updates so you’ll know when new stories go live.
When Rose McAlder died at eighty-five, it took us all of an hour to congregate on her property, rubbing our hands and stamping our feet against the October chill. We hadn’t known it was she who had lived in the big old house on the corner of Seventh and Price all those years. When the news broke that morning—not only was Norbury’s local recluse dead, but she also happened to be a famous author—we poked…
B. Morris Allen’s story “Dragons I Have Slain” was published in Metaphorosis on Friday, 2 September 2016. I’m a big fan of Deep Purple, and of many of its component members, including the late Jon Lord (keyboards). I was listening to his album Pictured Within early one morning after dropping my wife off at the airport. The title song is beautiful, but it includes the line “There are dragons I have slain”. It works in…
Q: Do you often include children in your stories? What role do they play?
A: Yes, I do, very often, include children in my writing. I have two small daughters and when they came into the world, everything changed entirely. That change was a vast surprise to me, and probably the biggest event of my life.
I think children evoke a completely non-rational principle that most everyone agrees on: we protect children. By “non-rational” I mean that there might sometimes be logical arguments for allowing children to be harmed … but in those cases, logic can go jump in front of a train: we protect children. Should we risk the lives of ten adults to save one drowning child? Yes. And count me in.
So children can represent a universal truth, a shared humanity, an absolute. These days, with post-modern post-everything uncertain, I find that certainty very comforting. Of course, children, about whom we care so much, are also dreadfully vulnerable, and I find that unsettling.
Children evoke strong feelings. That’s a useful role in writing.
Angus Cervantes’s story “Bad News from the Future” was published in Metaphorosis on Friday, 17 March 2017. Subscribe to our e-mail updates so you’ll know when new stories go live.
Damien Krsteski writes SF and develops software. Originally from Skopje, Macedonia, he now lives and works in Berlin, Germany. Updates about his fiction can be found on his blog or on Twitter.
Damien Krsteski’s story “Lake Oreyd” will be published in Metaphorosis on Friday, 24 March 2017. Subscribe to our e-mail updates so you’ll know when new stories go live.