Beautifully written SFF
The first time the house yells at them, it sounds like her husband. Eileen Ulmstead-Barris springs up in bed and looks at Preston lying next to her, motionless in his favored sleeping position—on his back, with his head buried under a pillow that should have smothered any sounds rising from his mouth. The shouts become louder and louder, then stop. Moments later, another cry fills the room. He must be having an awful nightmare, she …
Exhibit 57-B in the matter of Alonzo Montalvo v. MoodFoods Incorporated is brought to you by NeutralBot, today’s leading provider of AI-directed viewpoint-neutral video analysis. NeutralBot: because no humans means no bias. This transcript has been enhanced with NeutralNotes™, providing useful context and analysis where deemed appropriate by the NeutralBot AI. These NeutralNotes™ have been crafted by our state of the art AI to be relevant to Alonzo Montalvo’s claim that MoodFoods Incorporated must indemnify …
I kick my way through the decomposing leaves and they cling to my skirts. Others flit around me on the dying breath of summer, adding to the carpet that already comes up to my ankle. The only sound is the titter of thrushes and the distant drone of cattle. The track lies far behind me. I remind myself that I like being alone. That the forest is my ally. But I shiver anyway and quicken …
As of today, I’m a human crumple-zone. I saw to that myself. The highway network will see my car and label me the perfect impact absorber. There was a time I thought I had things all figured out. I had a good job. I had plans. Ambitions. Goals. A house of cards sent toppling down when they pulled my job out from underneath me. My severance package, nothing more than a handshake and an escort …
I would have never gone to the Glyphs of Onyx if I hadn’t fallen in love. I was in my final year at the University of Spell-Craft in Silver Forge. And as Silver Forge was the nearest port to the island of Onyx, and as the glyphs had been discovered only five years prior, students were always taking little holidays up there to see them. Most returned unimpressed. The Onyxian parliament itself had investigated the …
The wife’s eyes are closed, but there is no flutter of dream under her lids, and when her name escapes like a shy moth from the husband’s tongue, she says, “Go on, I’m listening.” The husband begins his story. The young man set out early one winter morning in search of the fabled Cold Lady. After hours of searching, he found her gliding through the silvered lindens and fell utterly in love. Her limbs were …
