Abyss & Apex Magazine of Speculative Fiction
Issue 32 Contains
Mirror Girl by Paul Carlson
"Desdemona 'Desi' Pringle," muttered the nurse. We were alone in the school's tiny clinic. "Eleven years old, excellent fifth grade scores. Complains of missing extremity."
"Not missing, ma'am," I corrected. "Invisible."
"Let's have a look." The nurse snapped on gloves and patted my left side.
"Raise it." More poking and squeezing. "It's there, all right." She reached my fingers. "Hmm. Left pinky finger seems insubstantial. Better get in the chair."
Lake Of Dreams by Christopher Lockhart
The cave waned into darkness save for my headlamp. I half-walked, half-crawled my way out onto the silvery surface while enduring the maddening screams coming from around me and through me and within me. Of course, I knew that airless Luna couldn't support such crazed banter. A few moments elapsed before I realized that the screams were mine.
Epitaph In Oak by Craig Watson
“What are you doing?” asked Portland.
“It's called immortality, my friend,” said Ben, “or graffiti. Take your pick.”
Out Of The Blue by Lavie Tidhar
He gazed out of the porthole at the oncoming flood. Somewhere in there, he thought, were the remains of the Albert Einstein, torn into molecules. It was a foolish, dangerous thing to do, to approach the Blue, to try and find a way into its naked singularity. But he could not – entirely – condone it. He wished, for a moment, it was him on that ship, instead of Miriam.
The Wrong Basement by David J. Sakmyster
Once our own basement had returned, there was really nothing else to do. The moral choice no longer available to us. We couldn't very well return the stuff, and legally .... I don't know, it had all been in our house anyway, so was it really stealing?
A Recipe For Broke-Heart Bread by K. Bird Lincoln
Five minutes into mincing, her eyes stinging with something more than onion fumes, a tear overflows the corner of her eye, dribbles down her nose and falls onto the cutting board. With oniony hands, Émilie pulls the proofed yeast over and squeezes her eyes tight, forcing more salty rivulets from her eyes into the dough. Good.
The Chinese Chef Was A Hologram by Max Salnikov
He tried to pull himself together, collect his thoughts. The damaged nanomachines launched random searches, comedy sitcoms were auto-downloading themselves into the undamaged nanocells in his hair to cheer him up, but it felt as if it all came from a different dimension.
Nine Views Of The Oracle by Rachel Manija Brown
He gazed out of the porthole at the oncoming flood. Somewhere in there, he thought, were the remains of the Albert Einstein, torn into molecules. It was a foolish, dangerous thing to do, to approach the Blue, to try and find a way into its naked singularity. But he could not – entirely – condone it. He wished, for a moment, it was him on that ship, instead of Miriam.
The Wrong Basement by David J. Sakmyster
Once our own basement had returned, there was really nothing else to do. The moral choice no longer available to us. We couldn't very well return the stuff, and legally .... I don't know, it had all been in our house anyway, so was it really stealing?
A Recipe For Broke-Heart Bread by K. Bird Lincoln
Five minutes into mincing, her eyes stinging with something more than onion fumes, a tear overflows the corner of her eye, dribbles down her nose and falls onto the cutting board. With oniony hands, Émilie pulls the proofed yeast over and squeezes her eyes tight, forcing more salty rivulets from her eyes into the dough. Good.
The Chinese Chef Was A Hologram by Max Salnikov
He tried to pull himself together, collect his thoughts. The damaged nanomachines launched random searches, comedy sitcoms were auto-downloading themselves into the undamaged nanocells in his hair to cheer him up, but it felt as if it all came from a different dimension.
Nine Views Of The Oracle by Rachel Manija Brown
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