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Heart of Stone – Chris Cornetto

February 2020

Light filtered through the debris, igniting a spark in his crystalline heart.

Bending all his will to the effort, the little golem opened his eyes. Pink, hazy dawn — or perhaps twilight? — filtered through a cloud of dust motes. It was barely light at all, yet it set his body thrumming, energy tingling through silicon veins. The light soaked into his heart and filled it with life.

He tried to move his arms, his legs, but he was too weak. He tried to check if he still had limbs, but he couldn’t lift his head. Even his thoughts trickled like tar.

How long had his core been dim? Where was he?

From above came scraping and grunting. A rustle of debris, as pebbles tumbled down. More light squeezed through the gap, and the gears of his mind began to turn.

Grand, he thought. My name is Grand. He was a Clay, a Stonesinger, a servant of the Lord of Earth. And he had failed his Master.

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Heart of Stone – Chris Cornetto
Light filtered through the debris, igniting a spark in his crystalline heart. Bending all his will to the effort, the little golem opened his eyes. Pink, hazy dawn — or perhaps twilight? — filtered through a cloud of dust motes. It was barely light at all, yet it set his body thrumming, energy tingling through silicon veins. The light soaked into his heart and filled it with life. He tried to move his arms, his …
Read it "Heart of Stone – Chris Cornetto"
Pyrrha – Antony Paschos
 I open my eyes and see a rifle pointing at me. Well, not at me exactly. At me and Sister. Or just at Sister, I’m not sure, because the barrel is dancing in circles and zigzags. Sister’s heavy breathing rumbles, hur, hur, hur, lulling me. Her snoring shakes her chest, which, in turn, shakes my head, as it’s tucked under her tit. I elbow her hard. “Sis,” I whisper. She grunts, tightens her arms …
Read it "Pyrrha – Antony Paschos"
Sonata I: Sona – L. Chan
Andante: Sona Siege drums struck the town just before daybreak – whaleskin stretched over hollowed out tree trunks, varnished and polished until the drum bodies were darker than a moonless night. War Music was the province of the Empire military, and was not often employed by the Periphery patrols. Early morning mist clung to the ground, warping and distorting as the waves of force sped from the siege drums, propagating through the Sound and smashing …
Read it "Sonata I: Sona – L. Chan"
Bedwyr by the Sea – C.B. Blakey
As the sun set over the sea, an old man built a sandcastle. His old green anorak sagged around him, patched and salt stained from years spent on the coastline. The sun glinted from the waves, so bright it was almost blinding. Eyes closed tight against the glare, his hands moved over the sand, pressing the crenellations into shape one at a time. “Avalon,” he whispered, feeling the sand firm beneath his fingers as he …
Read it "Bedwyr by the Sea – C.B. Blakey"

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It came from Dawn Lloyd

Dawn Lloyd’s story “The Last Duty” was published in Metaphorosis on Friday, 16 August 2019. I wrote this story when I was teaching at the American University of Afghanistan. When I first moved to Kabul, I was fortunate that a guard at the bombed out Darul Aman Palace accepted a “tip” to let a group of us inside. I remember one particular guard who followed us around whistling and watching to make sure we didn’t …

March 2020

March 2020

Table of Contents

  • The Eighth Fathom — Chris Panatier
  • The Wicked Stepmother — Rhema Sayers
  • The Draining — Matt Hornsby
  • Sonata III: Canta — L. Chan

Cover art by Chris Panatier.

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About Chris Panatier

Chris lives in Dallas, Texas, with his wife, daughter, a herd of dogs, and possibly one goat. He also does album art for metal bands, and generally employs his borderline ADD to any number of projects at the same time. He is also a civil trial lawyer representing people who have been poisoned by negligent corporations.

www.chrispanatier.com, @chrisjpanatier


Chris Panatier’s story “The Eighth Fathom
in Metaphorosis Friday, 6 March 2020.
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Heart of Stone – Chris Cornetto

Light filtered through the debris, igniting a spark in his crystalline heart. Bending all his will to the effort, the little golem opened his eyes. Pink, hazy dawn — or perhaps twilight? — filtered through a cloud of dust motes. It was barely light at all, yet it set his body thrumming, energy tingling through silicon veins. The light soaked into his heart and filled it with life. He tried to move his arms, his …

It came from Edward Ashton

Edward Ashton’s story “A Bear, or a Spider, or an Elephant” was published in Metaphorosis on Friday, 9 August 2019. Most of my shorter pieces start with an image that gets stuck in my head, and won’t go away until I figure out something to say about it. In the case of “A Bear, or a Spider, or an Elephant,” that image was a night sky, clear and cold, deep black and packed tight with …

A question for Jo Miles

Q: What’s your favorite non-SFF book?

A: One non-fiction book that I read recently and enjoyed immensely is The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben, a German forester who combines his personal, life-long experience working with trees with some incredible recent science to show that trees have a lot more going on than we give them credit for.

Not only do trees change their chemistry to survive harsh conditions or scare off parasites; they also communicate and look out for each other, warning nearby trees about dangerous insects, supporting and sheltering young trees as they grow, and even sharing nutrients with sick trees. Though it waxes poetic in places, I found it an eye-opening look at such a familiar thing, and a reminder that life can be sophisticated in many ways, even if it looks very different from us humans.


Jo Miles’s story “Grow, Divide, Sacrifice, Thrive
in Metaphorosis Friday, 21 February 2020.
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