Shadefast: The Feast of Saint Libitine
Beyond the city wall, a black dog
is running in the frost and stubble,
nine times under the cradling moon
like the sickles that sheared the last
of the harvest down. Who hears her
howl from the hearth-side will lose
a…
Since I moved to the city, I’ve been dying piece by piece. It’s not really the smog, or the crowds, or my tiny apartment above the Arabic bookstore, or any of the things that bother most people. It’s the way…
January Mortimer lives in London with her goldfish and a frightening number of house plants. She is an ecologist, so where ever she is right now, it is probably muddy. Her stories have appeared in Ideomancer, Fantasy Magazine and the anthology…
Never leave your place unguarded, the totem of the unborn fetus said. Carlos woke, startled, from the dream. He turned on the bedside lamp, stared into the murky fluid of the jars containing the fetuses of two girls taken…
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