The BCS Audio Fiction Podcasts are on hiatus for a few issues. In the meantime, peruse our episodes from last winter for audio fiction by E. Catherine Tobler, Tom Crosshill, Yoon Ha Lee, and more.

The Telling

The bees' solemn procession across pillow and cheek had been silent, their wings folded and still; when they crept back out over the sash they had disappeared as if not flying but falling into the darkness.  Their feet had pricked, Mel remembered, and their fur had tickled as they worked their way through lips, teeth, and tongue.  They had smelled of barley and clover and a dark musk that made Mel think of Travelers’ wagons on market day.

The bees' feet had pricked, Mel remembered, and their fur had tickled as they marched across cheek and through lips, teeth, and tongue.
The Scorn of the Peregrinator

The next noise I knew quite well; a sword drawn through a belt-ring. And there stood a small man, lost in a vast feathered cloak-and-cowl with a great ash-roc plume curling up from a thick combed headband, pointing a long needle of steel at me, his arm shod in small quills like an ant-hunter. I swear I heard a tinny, whistling call as my eyes took him in.

I raised the cairnskill feather, looked at the peregrinator through it. He became that shimmer again, indistinct but present.
From the Archives:
The Orangery
Flanked by my brother and sister, I opened the orangery door and was enveloped in sweet-scented air.