The Language of Flowers
Under the eaves, cats watch the blossoms fall. Their tails like question marks inquire of the dawn, their next plate. A woman also watches, her hands frozen, bud-like. A cat settles on her lap, twists...
View ArticleGlacial Raft
I. “A Sea of Troubles” Cryopathy. Emptiness. Translucent. The blackness of night. The ravenous rumblings of the sea… I cover myself. The brittleness of my soul darkening, snapping off in the cold. But...
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Tonight, Tonight
The mouth of sleep spits me out. My jaw is sore and my head aches from a night of writhing amongst the damned, gnashing my teeth. Another nightmare. The details of the dream do not leave me. Darkness,...
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Hieronymus
Previously published in Basement Stories #2, October 2010 In the top drawer of my desk, there is a calotype photograph of Hieronymus Grayle, shadowed and indistinct. Someone — not me — penciled the...
View ArticleOrphean Habit
Trust, and finding the ways can be hard, feed the guard, cat-lapping red blood from the saucer, it helps to remember the sound of the footfalls the heartbeat and ghost calls, and you ran, and the...
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The Garden
It started three nights ago with a rustling in the garden. We’d planted the garden two months earlier, in full sun and with fertile soil. We’d planned it to take best advantage of the vegetable...
View ArticleCurse of the Reaper’s Wife
First published in Asimov’s SF, Oct/Nov 1999.Also appeared in The Complete Accursed Wifes by Bruce Boston (Dark Regions Press, 2000) No other still lives who has seen his face beneath its heavy cowl....
View ArticleThe Maiden-Harp
“A famous harper passing by, The sweet pale face he chanced to spy. And when he looked that ladye on, He sighed and made a heavy moan. He made a harp of her breast-bone, Whose sounds would melt a heart...
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The House That Did Not Breathe
The distance I traveled was not over miles of railroad spikes, finely crushed rocks, and the dreams of peasants pounded down by the weight of iron; the journey was to someplace in my mind I would...
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