Issue #260
September 13, 2018

Ancestor Night

Jasna was silent as we completed the Ancestor Night rituals and songs and laid the wreaths over our parents. On the way back to the house, we walked unspeaking, joined by the dark figures of others who had finished their rituals. Jasna walked apart from us, as she had since last spring, and the rest of us linked hands.

It’s Easy to Shoot A Dog

For months she prayed for a puppy, but God did not relent, and one chill October morning she wandered off into the forest to find a pup herself. She was seven years old, hemmed in on all sides by chores and rules and commandments, her brother scampering in her wake. As always, she was supposed to watch him, the louse, same as every day since he’d been born.

Audio Fiction Podcast:
Ancestor Night
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As the oldest, I had to make sure I and my four sisters and little brother gave greetings to our parents in their first year under the ice.
From the Archives:
Dirt Witch
Dorota crept up between the porch's pillars, raised her hand to knock, and heard from inside the sound of a man shrieking.