I, Mandragora, by Phoenix Alexander
All of this is taking far too long. Here I am: red, flush with merriment, stinking sweet flora rotting in the shape of a human and here you are: a … Continue reading
My Face to the Sun, by Kelly E. Dwyer
The first time he brings me flowers, I throw myself in the river, right off the end of the dock and into the brackish shallows. The bouquet is bright and … Continue reading
In Which Mushrooms Carry History Through a Door Between Worlds, by Sharon J. Gochenour
The first part: reunions. [[ taste known ]] [[ taste familiar ]] (they creep through the earth, a thousand branching fingers, each tendril a single, elongated cell, a pressurized questing … Continue reading
Ten Poisons That Cannot Kill the Queen, by Marie Croke & Anna Madden
1 Atropa Belladonna An array of berries like little soldiers: the belladonna deeply black, intermixed with blueberries, gooseberries and raspberries enough so they smear the more potent root powder I … Continue reading
Tree Heart, by Beatriz Becker
In a factory yard there were piles of utility poles, all brand new. A mischievous wind blew dust and dirt over them, whirling dead leaves, pods and seeds about. But … Continue reading
The Mysterious Theft of St. Aureline’s Arboreal Collection, by Haralambi Markov
We didn’t know. We didn’t stop to think what ramifications the theft of St. Aureline’s arboreal collection would bring forth. How could we—life burrows muscular roots deep into our flesh … Continue reading
Que la grenade est touchante, by Cécile Cristofari
My dream is a hall of grey and green, where they drink and laugh, crimped hair, slicked-back hair catching the golden light. Music blooms from pianos and trumpets, twirling and … Continue reading
A Sleepless Hunter’s Wanton Fruit, by dave ring
The dreaming beast never slept. In Kala, on the Emerald Rim of the Sundered Lake, the beast’s hooves pounded against frost and lichen-encrusted earth. The white plumes of its breath … Continue reading
The Partisans, by Kyle E Miller
Two wizards, neighbours and now and then collaborators, enjoyed the peace and freedom of their land in the heart of the Purple Highlands. Between their two towers lay wildflowered hills … Continue reading
The Last Stanza of General Pfeil, by H.L. Fullerton
When the nightmares began, General Pfeil blamed them on her retirement tea. They meant well—the soldiers under her command—but they should never have recited that stupid ditty. She’d made a … Continue reading
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