Stories


Beautifully written science fiction and fantasy.



Just a Fire – A. Martine

by Addison Black, JAN. 3rd, 3075 Over the past year, we at MAELSTROM have covered stories which have often bordered on the sensational, such as the famous rivalry between siblings Amaterasu and Susanoo, the Japanese gods of the Sun and the Storms respectively. We have also notably touched upon the scandalous account of the giant Paul Bunyan’s alleged affair with the Titan Selene. All of these have served a similar aim: to bring awareness of…

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Upon the Fallen Leaves of the Ginkgo Tree – Mads Alvey

To walk upon the fallen leaves of the Ginkgo tree is very nearly to walk upon a river of gold. It is a sight of such pure beauty that the Speakers whisper sweet blessings to the earth, spinning a preservation upon the leaves where they lie, so the golden carpet won’t fade to black as we tread upon the ground. I was reminding myself of how lucky I was to have enough Speaking to join…

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The Bagel Shop Owner’s Nephew – J. Tynan Burke

Last night, Murray called with another bunch of prophecies, so Yonatan Kaplan hasn’t slept yet. He stayed up preparing dossiers on some doomed socialites instead. Now it’s a little after dawn, Friday morning, and he’s standing in line outside Fox’s Bagels with a thermos and a tote bag. He’s shaky from too much caffeine and too little sleep, but he doesn’t regret it. The socialites will die this weekend, according to Murray, and Murray’s got…

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It Feels Like Déjà Vu – Phong Quan

I open my eyes and do the first thing I always do after running the gravitational field generator: remember my name. “My name is Jon, I’m a physicist,” I say. Nothing comes after that. Thoughts begin to form and rise, and just as quickly sink back down; I feel like I’m struggling to stay afloat in a river that’s slowly dragging me under, trapped in its constantly shifting currents. But I fight it. I know…

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The Dream Diary of Monk Anchin – Felicity Drake

I went to the museum’s special exhibition on Seitokuji Temple alone, as was my habit. In the corner, there was a glass case full of portraits of the temple’s famous poets. The last portrait made me stop to take a second look. Unlike the other monks, this one was gazing directly out at the viewer. His face was painted in the standard Yamato-e style, just lines for the eyes and a hook for the nose,…

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The Forest of New People – Thom Connors

When winter comes to Vakning Forest, nothing changes. The evergreens, packed tightly together, don’t wilt or become bare. Nor does the smell fade. As the winter deepens, the snow covers the canopy like a blanket, and the scent of pine needles and pine cones follows the only path worn out of the darkness. Outside the forest, where the path begins, is the cottage of Abi and Odo Tremord. It has a red roof, brown walls,…

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