Short Fiction
“So Familiar a Gleam,” Dragon Gems Summer 2024 Anthology
Short Story | Fantasy | Sapphic
Rory stood me up.
She said she’d meet me at the restaurant at seven, but it’s ten past eight now and there’s no sign of her, not even a text. I’m sitting here, nursing my cocktail and trying to catastrophize, because I feel better about myself if I pretend I’m worried she got hit by a car than if I admit I’m upset she doesn’t like me.
“Mars and Venus,” Of Gods and Globes III Anthology
Short Story | Science Fiction
The buzzer sounded, signaling the end of her shift, and Maggie tossed the last chunk of aluminum into her bucket. She pulled back her goggles and wiped the sweat from her forehead, leaving a dirty streak, and followed the other miners out of the cavern. A dozen mechanical counters were waiting just outside, and Maggie dumped her barrel into a free one. She smirked as she watched the numbers climb.
“The Witch Who Lives Next Door,” Kaleidotrope Magazine
Flash Fiction | Fantasy | Sapphic | Featured on the Reactor blog!
Father says the Witch who lives next door is frightening, and a little bit beautiful. Mother says the Witch who lives next door is beautiful, and a little bit frightening.
“Traveling Salesman,” The Cosmic Background
Flash Fiction | Fantasy | Slipstream
Traveling Salesmen hardly ever eat humans.
“Midnight,” Hidden Realms Anthology
Short Story | Horror | Fantasy
You’re driving down the road by yourself at night. It’s the same road you take every night on your way home from work, a late shift in a gas station by the highway. It’s foggy out tonight, and the trees loom out of the darkness when the beams from your headlights hit them. The clock glows softly, telling you that it’s 11:59 pm.
“Verity,” hyphen punk #6
Short Story | Science Fiction | Sapphic | Jewish
Tikva slid into work exactly thirty seconds late. She raised the walls of her cubicle, blue holoscreens that hid the rest of the office. She moved to tap her message box, but a red exclamation point flashed on the screen, along with a ribbon of text: You are late. Please account for your time.
“I’ll Hold Them off for as Long as I Can,” Tree and Stone Magazine Issue #4
Flash Fiction | Fantasy
When I said, “You go on. I’ll hold them off as long as I can,” there was an implicit understanding that I was going to die.
“The End of Rain,” SFS Stories Issue #9
Flash Fiction | Fabulism
I made my home on a patch of damp farmland. I was young and so was she, her trees mere saplings next to the neighboring forests. I tilled her soil and trimmed her branches, and in return, she proved me with fruits and grains, more than I could eat.
“The Test,” Horror Library Anthology Vol. 7
Short Story | Horror | Science Fiction | A Brave New Weird award nominee!
In front of me on the table sat ten pineapples. Ten sets of yellow hexagons fading to green at the bottom, ten majestic crowns of leaves. All I had to do was eat them, and everything would be okay. Laura would be okay.
“Pink Marble,” Flash Point SF
Flash Fiction | Fantasy | Sapphic
The Queen had turned to stone.
No one could explain how or why. The greatest magicians, scientists, and alchemists in the country had tried and failed to determine the cause. They had prayed over her, enchanted her, applied potions and chemicals and fairy dust to her skin, chipped off bits of her robe and fingernails and sent them back for genetic testing. Nothing in their spells or analyses showed that she was anything other than plain pink marble in the shape of a woman.