An ephemeral layer of crinkly ice coated the surface of the microphone, falling in glistening flakes as Matilda ran a gloved hand over the mic's surface. via Pocket
On the M block of Fiction Street, a gust of wind pushed a hardback dangerously close to the curb. Bibliobot Eight-Ef rolled after it and extended its grasper, but another gust caused the robot to wobble and the book to dance away. via Pocket
IT'S ALWAYS about the ones who disappear. I've imagined it endlessly: what Claire must have thought as she packed her bag. How leaving is easy, even if you lie and say oh god it's hard it's hard it's hard. via Pocket
Serein, by Cat Hellisen | Shimmer via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2PoxZRO
Something moves in the half dark two gas lamps ahead of me. I hold fast at the edge of a small circle of gaslight cast down from the street lamp above me. I don't breathe. I don't move. via Pocket
The Half Dark Promise, by Malon Edwards | Shimmer via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2nThZdH
Isa died in a sudden suffocation of boiling blood and iron cinder in her mouth; she returned to herself wearing a blue cotton dress stained with fresh tobacco. She was younger and leaner, as she'd been when she first met Leslie Bell. via Pocket
A Whisper in the Weld by Alix E. Harrow | Shimmer via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2OMLNnO
The snow crunches under our boots as us-in-Devora and us-in-Mel trace our way through the Forest-That-Thinks. We pause, waiting for directions. That way. via Pocket
We Take the Long View, by Erica L. Satifka | Shimmer via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2OQvfeW
A mother. A son. A virtual world they both share where each could live forever and achieve their fullest potential. Until one of them decides that isn't enough for life. via Pocket
The Need for Air | Tor.com via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2tHgcv2
Angelcorpse, Angelcorpse, bones hollowed and so slight; Angelcorpse, Angelcorpse, you ate the marrow bright. Boiled down your wings and sawed away your teeth; plucked your feathers softly and made yourself a wreath. via Pocket
If We Die Unjustified - Uncanny Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2MzwWjo
Saturday. July 11, 2015. 20:47: I arrive home from a friend's family party with an army of dessert. via Pocket
"Rainbow Cookie Down," by Maryann Aita - Defenestration via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2vXFNld
The stories all start the same way. A man goes fishing at night, and because the weather is calm and the tide is moving fast he guides his boat to the glittering vee between the two riptides that meet at the foot of the lighthouse. via Pocket
The Molotov Cocktail via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2vTgiSi
They made a game of it, taking their girls downstairs to the basement where there were no windows. The father had games for the girls down there. On Friday nights, he would drink beer after work, playing records for them. via Pocket
The Molotov Cocktail via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2OO0t65
I was sixteen when the viz came. The spiral went crazy for a while, shooting, soldiers at the corners. But then, like everyone knows, it went back to normal. By twenty I was looking for ghosts in the vaults. via Pocket
Clarkesworld Magazine - Science Fiction & Fantasy A Gaze of Faces by Mike Buckley via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2NahGa5
Octavia was at the last gate when the alarm sounded. A small army of bristling weapons encircled her. The bag shuddered in her grip, panic rippling through its weave. via Pocket
The Quiltbag - Lightspeed Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2yaaeZb
Sahar, moving softly through the river valley, made sure to listen. The sound filtered into her helmet from the external mics, and she imagined this must be what hiking on Earth must be like. via Pocket
For as long as I can remember, Mythili has said she was going to leave. Even when we were children, she would tell Kumar and me that she was leaving the next day and we would never see her again. via Pocket
The slender jawbone lies in the palm of his hand like a crown. Raising it, an offering to the night, stretched starlight gleams on milk teeth. via Pocket
Beneath Ceaseless Skies - The Scrimshander by Damien Krsteski via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2MDgPkw
The First Annual Honesty Day was a complete bust. Yes, even I acknowledge that. We all lived through the turmoil, so we all know of what I speak. No one foresaw the tsunami of crushed dreams and ruined marriages and prosecutions. via Pocket
"What We Learned From Honesty Day," by Todd Mercer - Defenestration via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2nP7acM
The monkeys are white-faced capuchins. Small things, their lean, black-furred bodies stand in stark contrast to the white tufts of their faces and shoulders. via Pocket
A Song of Home, the Organ Grinds - Lightspeed Magazine via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2NmIzHX
The good news is, zombie unicorns almost never bite. The bad news is, even a tiny scratch from a zombie unicorn horn will turn you into a zombie. Mom discovered that by accident. Mom was really smart. via Pocket
Why I Hate Zombie Unicorns by Laura Pearlman | Shimmer via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2nOwkIz