Issue Fifteen (Feb 2010)
Diffusing lucent pinions into wisps, the wind gently deposited Bayuhaue four strides away from Dakaue’s hut. It had been an arduous flight to the upper spheres of Kabunyan, the Sky World; nevertheless, Bayuhaue was relieved to be back in her region of birth, Luktag.
Dead air. Static buzz itches around the old speakers in my cab. Then the dashboard clock flips all its green digits down to zero and with a crackle and a hiss, she’s there.
Years, Trista thought. She stared out, through the foot-by-foot square window in her wall, and wanted to scream. She wanted to pluck the lamp from the table beside her and bash in the window, the only window in her quarters.
This is how it ends: with a sky brittle like purple-coloured glass, with the death of the kid Morano, on a lonely beach at the edge of a dark continent.
It begins… it begins with the Zog.
Esperanza was oiling the snake’s new tongue when the door opened and in walked Mr. Morales with a box in his hands and a homunculus behind him. At first she didn’t know it was a homunculus. She thought he’d met a dandy at the auction and dragged him to the shop.
If anyone could descry the gold fae, it was Oliver Cobbler. His eyes were keen, his ears were sharp, and his heart was greedy. His friends Robert Shepherd, Tobias Baker and Bijou LaVoix all knew that.
The bride was coming down the stairs. Looking in through the glass doors, I could see the red carpet and the double row of girls strewing flower petals. Music was playing—some cheap Mando-pop song, probably the groom’s favourite. The tune was bland, and I wondered if the bride liked it.
She had become jaded by the many years of false promises and crushed hopes. She would go alone to the movies to watch the latest romance lighting up the screen. She’d sit in the middle of the theater amongst the naive couples, each smiling and falling further into what they thought was love.