you can hear it
the cracking, the slurping
(the screams cut short)
you know what it means
but you mustn’t look back
you can feel it
a whisper of fabric
light as thought
whooshing behind you
but you mustn’t look back
the fragrance follows you
cloying floral notes mixed with
the stench of iron
memories almost make you smile
but you mustn’t look back
you recognize the hummed lullaby
unheard for a decade
you don’t know how Mom
returned, how she found you
but you mustn’t look back
These 23 works of dark speculative fiction demand readers consider the following:
Who do we become when we only have ourselves for company? What remains when we've sacrificed too much? Where do the babies really come from?
If you never met her, you’d think she was a real nice lady, yeah. Good with kids, never kicked no dog. Never sang a hymn out of tune. On Tuesdays and Thursdays she works down at the shelter, handing out socks and toothbrushes.
I go barefoot in my boots rather than take a single thing from Mona Luna.
A woman awakens to find life strangely normal after murdering her husband, but normal is a world of constant dread, and the voice in her head is worse than the corpse in her bed.
Two bankrollers make their escape after a botched job, but one of them may be far more than what he seems.
