Enter to win a signed copy of BCS author Helen Marshall's new short story collection Gifts for the One Who Comes After
“Do you question me, Mielbok, the Billion-Toothed Maggot?”
She and I made bread every day knowing that if the grain didn't ripen, we were next in line to be cut down.
Abe experienced the odd sensation of Madame Oljon inside his head aligning her face with his, pushing eyes and lips forward past his own.
As with Papa, she knew Thomas was gone and felt no regret, for she had changed equally.
Salt! It tasted of salt as much as the sardines did, but with some wilder flavor, too.
Wind tore through the cave as I washed my silken face and hung it to dry.
Magrat was right. This man stood at the heart of it.
Guess it's just you and me now, spider.
I left him there, stacking dirty straw in the brazier to honor a dead goddess.