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by K. T. Louis When miracles decide to happen, you just can’t stop them.
It isn’t every day that a girl finds a sack full of ancient coins in a motorcycle saddlebag. My luck must be changing. Katerina Echo tossed a broad silver thaler into the air experimentally. Before she could catch it, another hand closed on the coin. “Hey!” by Julie Jansen How can you help a spirit who is lost?
Mark bent down to tie his shoes. The minor effort left him breathless. He sat on the bed and wiped sweat from his brow. When he raised his head, the reflection in the mirror gave him a start. He avoided looking into mirrors now. The creature that looked out was a cross between Auschwitz victim and zombie, a far cry from his ruggedly handsome former self. Eight weeks in the hospital left his once strong, solid body nothing more than a bag of skin and bones. by Scott Davis When the darkness comes, it behooves us to pay attention.
Walking from my car through the parking lot I saw a footprint that looked for all the world like a cloven hoof. It was in the snow that hadn’t been completely cleared away and stood out from the various other markings of lug boots, inappropriate sneakers, and tire tracks. I searched for other imprints but they – if there were any to begin with – had all been trampled over. I thought of mounted police, but a horse’s hoof was shaped much differently than this. Besides, I had never seen a horse here, in a shopping center just off the highway, surrounded by high tech companies, hotels, restaurants, and suchlike. by Robert C. J. Graves A priestess in training is always a threat to the establishment.
Our tribe first heard tales of the giant Anthal people when we left on our seasonal march in search of a winter home. Other travelers we encountered kept us enthralled with rumors of appalling horrors long after the evening fires had died. But Tor, chief of our hunters and fish charmers, said to me, “Don’t be foolish, Monna. Stories are nothing but poets’ bad barter for bread.” Yet I have always found there to be a great deal of truth in stories. by Jeromy Henry It’s tough to win a hand when the cards are stacked against you.
I thought distractedly that maybe I should join Cirque du Soleil. I’m not sure if I grew a third arm, or if I simply evolved juggling skills. But I somehow managed to text “hi” to Marty as I was talking to Andy about Saturday’s big game, all the while checking the weather on the smartphone to see if my wife and I could go on the company picnic. |
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