LACKINGTON'S

speculative prose

When the Vine Came, by S.R. Mandel

The narrator shook his long grey curls. “When I lost my eyes, my sight became clearer,” he said. “I’ll tell you the real story. Listen!”: The planet was Boeotia; the … Continue reading

March 14, 2019

Prima Fuit, Finis Erit, by Julia August

First Cynthia caught me with her fulminating eyes. O me miserum! Captive and collared, a fool never before touched. Now she, trailing charred Coan silk, her curls breathing cold perfume, … Continue reading

March 14, 2019

The Wytch-Byrd of the Nabryd-Keind, by Farah Rose Smith

gold in my eyes red on my mouth am I glamour or did I eat you for treasure   Claudia Marr, head swinging up in pride from the cover of … Continue reading

March 14, 2019

Collar for Captain Cormorant, by Rekha Valliappan

I caught this morning morning’s minion, king- dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding … how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing…                                     — Hopkins, ‘The Windhover” A colony … Continue reading

March 14, 2019

Song of the Oliphant, by KT Bryski

Thunder’s shaking the whole pub pretty good. Fat raindrops lash the windows so we can’t see out. Not that there’s anything to see. The stores across the road lost power … Continue reading

March 14, 2019

Love Letters from Velveteen, by M. Raoulee

[The story of “Velveteen” appears as one of the few surviving narratives of the Late Orb Age. The author’s references to “magic” represent an uncharacteristic literary device for an era … Continue reading

March 14, 2019

A Thousand Tongues of Silver, by Kate Heartfield

I am a book. My pages are purple. This is how they made me. First, they flayed the calves, stretched and scraped their wet skins. Then they mixed lichen and … Continue reading

October 31, 2018

Satia Te Sanguine, by A.J. Hammer

You’re walking down the Lungotevere one day, your last day in Rome, in fact, when a woman stops you. She smiles, a bright smile, and invites you, in English, into … Continue reading

October 31, 2018

Letters Written to the Dearest Deceased Frances Blood, by R.M. Graves

Runnymede, Friday 30th March 1787. Afternoon. Fanny, it is I, Mary. I know we vowed to never indulge the aristocracy. However, I must work my sister’s keep as Father invests … Continue reading

October 31, 2018

Nothing Must Be Wasted, by Arkady Martine

The vultures had colonized the shell of her ship. The largest and bravest perched on Yagmur’s chest, its talons caught in the straps of her pilot’s harness. She watched it … Continue reading

October 31, 2018